


You're Going to Go Far (Kid)

by PastyPirate



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Archie doesn't think he's a victim but everyone else does, Awkward Sexual Situations, Awkwardness, Band Fic, Betty is not a virgin, Demisexual Jughead Jones, Demisexuality, Everyone is sensitive about their music, F/M, Jughead Jones has custody, Jughead didn't go to Riverdale, Kissing, Mentions of Pedophilia, Mentions of grundy, Neck Kissing, Rating Might Change, Rating did change and it got a little racy y'all, Updating the tags as I go, Vaginal Fingering, Virginity, and Betty who is here to support her friends, but Jughead who is just here to support Jellybean
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-27
Updated: 2018-10-12
Packaged: 2018-12-20 17:40:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 25,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11925915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PastyPirate/pseuds/PastyPirate
Summary: Jughead has always been unable to say no to Jellybean. So if she wants to join a band of people he barely remembers from a town he'd abandoned years ago, well, then he's joining a band.In which; Jellybean is talented, Jughead spoils her (as best as he can), Veronica spoils everyone (better than Jughead can), Betty just wants to be perfect, and Archie thinks they can do this for real.





	1. Chapter 1

Jughead thought they’d stop playing together when they moved to New York. That Jellybean would find some brilliant guitarist and keyboard player at Juilliard and start her own band. Leaving Jughead to his own devices at NYU. And he was okay with that, every genius has to shed the deadweight eventually. 

Afterall Jughead had only picked up the fourth-hand guitar as a way to help Jellybean practice her talent on the drums as they waited for the state of Ohio to choose who got custody of her. Now that they were a world away things should've been different.

Instead, every Monday after school he'd cart her drum set to a crowded subway station, their busker license proudly hanging around his neck as he’d wait for her to show up. They'd play for a few hours before using their winnings to buy groceries and cook for the week. Jellybean argued that it was equal parts for the money and for quality sibling time. He had a sneaking suspicion it had more to do with the same anxiety that kept him from fitting in at school. The Jones siblings: great at music, bad at humans.

“Are you sure you wouldn't want to ask one of your classmates to take my place?” Jughead finally asked one rainy Monday about one week before their respective sophomore years were going to kick off. A successful year of city living under their belts. 

“Then the name wouldn't make sense,” Jellybean said as she chewed the last French fry, hastily wiping her salty hand on her shirt. Jughead looked down at the hand drawn sign that said JONESIN’ and didn't bother to respond. 

With a shrug he placed his fingers on the strings and followed her lead into the first of a handful of easy listening crowd pleasing songs. 

He let Jellybean set the pace and choose the songs, he figured it was her stress relief after all. Today she was focused on mid-90s grunge and ska rock, starting with her personal favorite of No Doubt. Crooning love songs always made Jughead antsy, when they slipped into “Don’t speak” he tried to focus on people watching instead of the words. A burly redhead walked past his line of sight, dropping a ten in the guitar before moving to sit at the closest bench. There was something familiar about the way the guy smiled at him, but Jughead didn’t want to stare at someone and sing a break up song. Jughead’s eyes did flit back to the man, trying to place where he’d seen him before. 

Their cover of “Heart Shaped Box” was positively received - a stalwart business man tossed them a twenty and took one of the stickers Jughead had gotten made in Ohio when they still played in seedy bars to earn enough money to skip town. Jughead kept his mind working by spinning a back story, as he said thanks to the man’s back as the man rushed on the train. That the stalwart businessman had once been deep in the grunge scene, he’d spiraled into drugs before hitting rock bottom, and now lived the sober life of an accountant, but Nirvana brought out the grunge in him. It was how Jughead passed the time, training his storytelling abilities even as he tried to sing well enough to get their groceries. 

From behind him Jellybean started the opening beat for “Come Out and Play.” Just as the guitar part kicked in, his eyes landed back on the ginger man, who hadn’t gotten on the train with the rest of the crowd. He told himself that the man was probably just sitting close to them but waiting for the train on the opposite side of the platform. Still, Jughead edged slightly in the man’s line of sight, putting himself between the guy and his fifteen year old sister. There was no shortage of creeps in New York. 

The next drumbeat cued him to start on one of their own songs. One that Jellybean had convinced Jughead to write after a particularly harrowing visit to Southside Penitentiary. Ginger guy, who already looked entirely too excited to begin with, now looked beside himself with pleasure. 

As Jughead sang he mentally worked out how long they’d been there and how much they would lose if they cut out early. The song wrapped up and for the first time in an hour he turned to face Jellybean. 

“Wanna make this one our last one?” He asked, widening his eyes and inclining his head towards the ginger, their not-subtle code for _this guy is freaking me out let's bounce._

She frowned but shrugged, before reaching down behind her drum set to pick up her water bottle. 

Jughead turned to face the platform, and jumped back with a yelp.

The ginger man was now directly in front of his case, wide and ecstatic eyes making Jughead wish he’d sprung for mace. There was no way he could take on the ginger guy, he looked like he could pick up Jughead and bend him into a pretzel. 

Jughead wanted to say something like _back off man_ , but he knew from experience that taking on a guy who had 40 pounds of muscle and 6 inches on him would not end well for him. Instead he aimed for his usual brand of dry humor. 

“Can I help you?” he asked with an arched brow, once again shifting to put himself between the man and his sister. 

“Jughead, it's me!” The guy pointed at himself, and Jughead stared at the overly excited face. There was a faint bell ringing somewhere in his mind, but he couldn’t quite put the pieces together.

“I got nothin.” He shrugged and hoped that at least one of the nearby people would report his disappearance.

“Archie Andrews! Your dad was the foreman at-” 

“Andrews construction. Right, we used to have barbecues together.” Jughead sagged in relief. The man wasn't a weirdo, he was an old family friend. And not the kind of old family friend that wanted to see FP dead. The memory of a perfect American family sprung to the forefront of his mind. A mother, father, son, and a friendly dog who seemed to move in tandem together. “How's your parents?” 

“Mom is partner at a firm in Chicago, Dad is still running the construction site.” Jughead wanted to ask how that distance worked but the tightness around Archie’s eyes told him that it didn't. 

“I'm sorry man.” Jughead wondered if he should pat his back or something. He resolved to fiddle with the microphone stand instead. 

“It's ok, shit happens. How are your -” Archie's eyes widened and Jughead was happy he wasn't the only one committing social faux pas in this conversation. 

“Neither of them are dead.” Jughead gestured towards the set up. “Can we catch up later? We only have this spot for two more hours.” 

“Actually I wanted to talk to you about your music! It's amazing, just really spectacular.” Archie had the kind of earnest way of speaking that made every word seem incredibly sincere. 

“Thanks, Jellybean is going to Juilliard.” Jughead gestured towards Jellybean, still hesitant to step aside.

“That’s great, you’re really killin’ it, I had no idea that you were into drums!” 

“Thanks!” Jellybean said in a way that meant she was blushing slightly. Once she started rolling she could be a little egomaniac, but the first compliment always threw her off.

“To be fair the last time you saw Jellybean she was mostly interested in mudpies and wading pools.” Jughead couldn't help but point out. 

“Right, I think we were eight so you must’ve been four…” Archie trailed off before looking at Jellybean with concern “wait do you even know who I am?”

“Yeah, your Dad was a character witness at our Dad’s trial,” Jellybean said. 

Jughead shot Jellybean a look over his shoulder, gauging what bringing up FP was doing to her. She was still holding her bottle in her pale hands, and smiling wide, blush high on her cheeks. She'd missed most of the emotional rollercoaster that landed their father in jail, the complicated weaves and turns of a kidnapping turned into a heroin dealer hostage situation. After all she'd been in Ohio with their mother for most of it.

“I didn’t know you went to the trial,” Archie and Jughead shared a look, Jughead only shrugged. 

“I didn’t I just read the newspapers about it. Jughead was there for part of it, but he had to be what was it -” 

“I was kindly asked not to be in the courtroom for the character witnesses, since I was barely sixteen at the time I was still allowed to give my own character witness in the Judge’s quarters. I didn’t even know you guys were there,” Jughead interjected. He hated talking about it, he'd been the center of attention at Southside for the entirety of the trial. He couldn't get out fast enough. 

“I think half of Riverdale High was there, and Southside High, all of your friends. Kevin met this guy named Joaquin there and-” 

“Ah, the ballad of Kevin and Joaquin. So romantic.” He gave Archie another wry grin before pointing at his guitar. “As much as I love catching up, and swapping stories the circus of my Father’s trial, we do have to make ends meet here.”

“Well that’s what I wanted to talk to you about!” Archie sucked in a deep breath, “I’d love for you guys to join my band.”

______________ 

“We can’t join a band,” Jughead informed Jellybean as he stood in their narrow studio apartment waiting for her to finish brushing her teeth.

“Why not?” she asked, although it came out garbled as she had a mouth full of toothpaste, and only Jughead’s context clues tipped him off to what she asked. 

“Because, you have school, I have school. I’m already juggling two jobs and you want to keep busking in case you make your big break-”

“What if this is my big break?” Jellybean stepped out of the tiny bathroom, and into the room that wasn’t much larger. They had a bunkbed against one wall, and two bookshelves that held all their clothes and worldly possessions on the other. In between was a wide window that looked up into an alleyway and was covered in bars. Jellybean plopped down onto the bottom bunk which was covered in her homework and music notes. “I mean, if I’ve learned anything from porn, it’s that if a hot dude comes along offering you a once in a lifetime opportunity, you take it.”

“Jellybean,” Jughead groaned, dropping into the armchair that was tucked between the bookshelves and the window, “I can’t know what kind of porn you’re watching.” 

“Sure you can, I just open your laptop-” Jellybean broke out into laughter as Jughead groaned and sank lower into the chair. “Ok, I’ll stop. I’m just saying, it’s worth thinking about.” 

“A band would be a serious time commitment, with no immediate benefit.” 

“Other than friendship? You and Archie used to be tight.” Jellybean curled her legs behind her, leaning over her homework to be in his line of sight. “Every phone call you’d be all, Archie did this! Archie did that! I remembered cus I was totally jealous. I had no friends in Toledo.” 

“Yeah, that was before he-” Jughead lifted his arms and made quotation marks with his fingers, “became a ‘hot dude.’” Jughead didn't even recognize him anymore. He was a completely different man then the one he'd parted ways with.

“Just because someone gets hot doesn’t mean that they get a total personality transplant.”

“Clearly you need to stop watching porn and start watching 90’s rom coms.” 

“The point is, I think it could be big for us.” Jellybean leaned forward and placed her hand on his knee. It was such an FP move that it had Jughead’s heart clutching in his chest. He could still remember his first day going to Southside High, as a tortured freshman, how FP leaned forward and patted his knee told him everything would be alright. He'd been in more of a fathering mood on that particular day. It seemed Jellybean got the best of him. Jellybean sat up straighter and gave him a reassuring smile, “I mean we’re ok with money and everything right? We’ve been saving like crazy and super frugal.” 

“We can’t start to backslide and rest on our laurels. Archie has a safety network, he has his dad. We don’t know where mom is, and we definitely know where dad is.” Jughead leaned back, scrubbing his eyes.

“Just think about it, ok?” 

Jughead could do nothing but nod. As all overprotective big brothers, he couldn’t say no to her. 

“Alright, I’m gunna go wash the taste of this conversation out of my mouth.”

“Ok, I’ll be here, watching a rom com and definitely not porn.” 

With another groan from him and giggle from her, he stepped into the bathroom to brush his teeth.

______________ 

He did think about it, in fact, it was almost everything he thought about for the next week. His fingers tapped against the keys of his wizened computer as he stared through the bars into the alleyway, never pressing hard enough to actually add words to the document open in front of him.

Archie was part of a vague set of memories labeled Before It Got Worse. The tenuous time period after his mom took Jellybean and bailed, and before FP had was turned into a scapegoat for a syrupy heroin dealer. Jughead could remember faintly how they’d go to the diner together, eating cheeseburgers and waiting for their fathers. When FP got fired the cheeseburger evenings became rarer and rarer as Jughead got pulled further and further away from the light of the Chock’lit Shoppe. Archie had definitely always been a good friend, a good confidant. Every year on his birthday he got a twenty dollar gift card in the mail from Archie. Until Social Services took Jughead to Toledo. 

He didn’t hate the thought of spending more time with Archie, but he did hate the thought of losing the money he’d be making otherwise. 

Jughead rushed home between shifts when he knew Jellybean would still be in school, and reviewed their financial situation. They had saved just enough for three months of rent and food. But he knew how quickly things could go sour. He could be asked to leave his job as a handyman in a n upscale high-rise, which warranted him the sweet digs of an underground studio, and the even sweeter digs of a parking spot for FP's truck. He was loathe to drop shifts at the bar to goof around with Archie’s band. 

He kept thinking about it all through the week as he signed up for courses and tried his best to get ready for the impending start of his sophomore year. He tried to imagine adding band practices to his already overloaded schedule; he was trying desperately hard to graduate in three years instead of four. The thought alone gave him hives. 

He woke up monday morning with a hard and fast decision of “Nope” on his mind. He kept the nope all day. 

“Have you thought about it?” Archie asked, handing them both milkshakes at the end of their long set. Jughead looked down into the guitar case, a steady night with fairly good returns he can already tell, before looking at the golden double arches on his shake. He thought about gift cards tucked into Power Ranger cards and- 

“Maybe?” Jughead said hesitantly. Jellybean squealed behind him, and he held out a hand to shush her, trying his best to keep the front united and not show Archie where his weakness is. 

“That’s great! We can start working with the rest of the band and -” Archie’s eyes lit up faster than a firework stash on the fourth of July. 

“Wait, Archie, I’m just - there’s a lot of stuff going on, in both of our lives. We both have a full plate. I don’t want to fully commit to something so nebulous. I’d like to hear more about it, how often you want to practice, or how many people are in it, I don’t even know what instrument you play.” Jughead took a sip of the milkshake and almost groaned in relief. It’d been too long since he treated himself. He opened his mouth to continue but Archie was already waving a dismissive hand. 

“First, I play the guitar and sing. Secondly, why don’t you meet with the rest of the band? Tomorrow morning? Veronica, she’s our bassist and also kind of our manager, treats us to this insane brunch every Tuesday. You guys should come!” Archie’s face fell slightly, as Jughead gestured towards Jellybean, “right, Juilliard.” 

“I think you should still go though,” Jellybean leaned over her drumset and tugged on Jughead’s hanging suspenders. “Get the lay of the land and what not.” 

Jughead looked between Archie and Jellybean, their hopeful faces made them look like they were the siblings and Jughead was the odd man out. 

“Fine. Let’s do this.”

______________ 

Jughead didn’t realize that when Archie said insane, what he really meant was insanely rich.

Self conscious in his torn black jeans and several layers of flannel over his S t-shirt, he took a second to tug his hat more firmly on his head before striding up to the host. 

“I’m here to see a Veronica Loge,” Jughead looked at his hand again, “Sorry, that’s Lodge.” 

The host’s look of disgust vanished as soon as Jughead corrected the name. Which made Jughead deflate just a little more. Great, Archie’s tied himself to the ultra elite.

His suspicions were only confirmed when the host led him to the nicest table in the house. Archie was leaning forward on his elbows, explaining something to a girl who looked more interested in taking off Archie’s clothes. Her pearls gleamed in the bright morning light, and her black hair fell softly over her shoulders. 

“Miss, another member of your party has arrived.” The host announced before pulling out Jughead’s chair. 

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t Riverdale’s very own enigmatic author. I read some of your short stories that made it’s way into the Daily Register,” the woman stuck out her hand with the kind of careful grace that the ultra wealthy have. The sure assumption that everyone knows exactly what they’re about and how to handle any situation. “I’m Veronica Lodge.”

“Jughead Jones. You didn’t have to go dig those old stories up,” Jughead said as he tried to take his chair and shake her hand at the same time. He’s sure he mostly succeeded. 

“Well, I read them when they came out. I think I came to Riverdale the same year you left it.” Veronica gave him a level look as if she was confiding in him, even as Archie sat like an excited puppy right next to them. “Honestly, your stories were the best thing in that newspaper, don’t tell Betty I said that-”

“I heard it anyways.” A voice said from behind Jughead, she didn’t sound mad, just playful. “And I hope you mean the best thing before I started writing in it.” 

The disgruntled host led a woman - Betty, Jughead assumed, although he barely recognized her - around the table. Her blonde hair was pulled into a high ponytail (which he did recognize) and swung with every step. Wide green eyes gave him a quick and assessing look, for once he wasn’t found wanting. Her mouth broke into the most beautiful smile he’d ever seen, and he felt only a little stupid for thinking that. 

“As I live and breathe,” Betty said in an exaggerated voice, “why it’s Jughead Jones, all grown up!”

“You’re not looking seven anymore either, Betty Cooper.” Jughead tried to find some level of playfulness underneath the anxiety. It was hard to joke with someone he hadn’t seen since he was in grade school. The last time he’d seen Betty Cooper was at a block party before he and FP moved to the trailer park. He wasn’t sure if his creative mind was giving him false memories but he could almost recall Betty Cooper being led away by her overbearing mother. He could remember the light playing in her eyes as she looked forlornly over her shoulder at himself and Archie, covered in mud from playing. “I don’t think I’ve seen you in over a decade.” 

“I didn’t know you guys knew each other, well I guess Riverdale is very tiny.” Veronica cut in, shifting forward in her seat, ready to delve in. He’d been positive that Veronica and Archie had been an item, but as soon as Betty sat down she reached out and quickly held Veronica’s hand before releasing it again. It was such a quick reassuring moment he almost missed it. If Veronica saw him catch it, she didn’t mention it. He assumed close friends, but he knew he could be wrong. “It’s such a small world, Archie running into you in this huge city.” 

“It’s crazy isn’t it? It’s almost-” Archie tilted his head to look at Jughead, “-like fate.” 

“Come on now, that stuff might work with Jellybean but it won’t work with me.” Jughead figured there was no sense in beating around the bush when food he definitely could not afford was on it’s way and someone else was paying for it. “A band is a huge commitment.”

“I said the same thing,” Betty leaned forward, sharing a smile with Archie. _Ok who is sleeping with who?_ Jughead thought for a quick second. “I told him that school comes first but he said he’d work around my schedule.” 

“I didn’t even know you played any instruments, that either of you played any instruments.” Jughead tried to sound less accusatory, less like he was ready to bolt at any moment. 

“Well you know my mom, she wanted me to be the most well rounded girl in the universe, and what well rounded girl doesn’t know how to play piano?” There’s an edge of venom to her words, that makes Jughead tilt his head ever so slightly. He feels like a box of clues are being thrown at him, and he doesn’t know which order to follow the leads in. He made the executive decision to leave the mysteries behind the three sets of eyes staring at him for another day. He had to focus on the mission at hand. 

“Right.” He tried to go for a sympathetic wince before continuing, ”so we’ve got a pianist, a bassist, a guitarist - who sings vocals?” 

All at once they pointed at themselves. 

“So I’d just be joining as a second guitarist and Jellybean as a drummer?” 

“No, dude your voice is so great, you’ve got that gritty Chris Cornell thing going on. We’re trying for a more edgy and rock influenced sound. Right now we’re pretty um, well…” Archie trailed off, scrunching his nose as he took a second to think. 

“Folk Pop?” Betty said hesitantly. 

“Poppy rock?” Veronica returned. 

“Well we’re kind of having an identity crisis. Veronica only moved to New York a couple weeks ago. And up until now Betty and I were just playing around whenever we were in Riverdale at the same time, but Betty is doing an exchange at NYU and then you’re here and it’s just a really great time for us I think, we’re all at a crossroads you know?” 

Jughead was saved from trying to answer by the waiter’s appearance. He quickly looked at the menu and blanched when it was all in French. He waited until Archie ordered and asked for whatever Archie was having, hoping against all hope that Archie still had somewhat decent tastebuds. 

As soon as the waiter left, Archie launched into the story of how their band started. Archie added far more detail than necessary, about someone named Ms. Grundy (Jughead didn't miss how Veronica and Betty frowned at her name) and then someone named Val (the frowns disappeared) helped him find his voice. But it was Betty and Veronica who played songs with him in his garage. That this year they all managed to be in New York and _wouldn't it be great if we could do this for real?_

Jughead tried to listen, but all he heard was a vanity project that two old friends were going along with. 

“That sounds great but-” Jughead started, but Veronica reached across the table and curled her fingers around Archie's hand. Betty’s eyes snapped to the side of Veronica’s face, comically widening. Jughead was now incredibly lost, and not just about the band situation. 

“Archiekins, I think I left my sweater here last week, could you go to the front desk?” Veronica smiled sweetly and tilted her head pointedly. Jughead could see that Archie wasn't getting the _leave us alone_ memo. 

“Come on, I'll help you find it!” Betty said over Archie's protests. Betty, always quick as a whip, got the message Veronica was trying to send to Archie. Archie nodded and followed Betty towards the front desk. 

Veronica waited until the pair of them were out of range before turning to Jughead.

“I know what it sounds like, ego driven guy thinks that a guitar makes him special and worth everyone’s time.” Veronica’s smile stayed sweet, Jughead leaned his head back for a second, trying to figure out the diplomatic way to respond. 

“Well I wouldn't say it like that.” Is what he finally settled on. 

“It's okay, I get it. When I first heard that Archie was a musician I thought ‘oh great I'm going to have to politely listen to all his songs’ but then I was pleasantly surprised to find that he's actually quite good. And he’s only gotten better since. We all have.” Veronica folded her hands in front of herself, and no longer was she a young socialite out to brunch with friends. Jughead could see her shift into business mode with the careful set of her head. “This band will definitely be going places. We’ve been searching for that missing piece and I'm confident you and your sister are it.” 

“You haven't even seen us play.” 

“Au contraire my friend, I spent all night watching your videos from all those competitions in Ohio. You two had quite the following there. Plus a large array of devastatingly heart breaking songs. ‘The Drive In’ actually made me tear up, which is not easy to do. It's clear that you two have passion, talent, and a _je ne sais quoi_. Plus Archie said you two were once like brothers-” 

“I hate to break it to you, but I didn't even recognize him last week.” 

“Well still, why couldn't you be like brothers again? Fame is hard and we need a united group.” She sounded so confident. Like a con man selling snake oil, but for once he wanted to give in. He wasn’t even sure _why_ so he went with his standard arguments. 

“There's so much that goes into getting into the big leagues, just because we’re all talented and passionate doesn't mean we’ll be at the top of the charts next week.” Jughead looked over his shoulder, in the entrance way Archie was trying to walk back to the table, no sweater in hand, while Betty tugged on his arm and kept him back. Jughead suddenly felt like Veronica was going to make him an offer he couldn't refuse. 

“No, passion and talent mean nothing without hard work. Four years ago my family had nothing. My dad lost everything by being a rule breaking idiot. The only reason why we’re sitting here is that my mother took over the company and brought us back to the top. I know fair amount about hard work. And also about incentives.” 

“You're not going to threaten me are you?” 

“Of course not silly, I want to pay you.”

______________ 

“She said what?” Jellybean’s head popped over the rail. He wanted to remind her not to stand on the edge of the lower bunk but he knew it was a loss cause.

“She wants to pay us two thousand a month for six months. And if we don't feel it we’re free to go.” He kept staring at the ceiling. 

“What? Where are the strings?” He turned just in time to see Jellybean’s narrowed eyes. 

“Well we’d have to commit to a set number of band practices. And any shows they can set up. Although I told her that you can't miss classes.” He sat up and pulled his phone out of his pocket to show her the contract Veronica had promptly sent. “Then she said pulling you out of school would be a last resort and she'd pay an extra thousand dollars every time it happened as an absolute necessity.” 

“Holy crap, for a thousand dollars-” 

“Nope. You worked so hard to get into Juilliard and you better graduate at the top of your class.” Jughead’s words fell on deaf ears, he watched as she scrolled through the contract. 

“What happens at six months? Does she still pay us if we want to stay?” 

“According to her timeline we’ll have our first album recorded in six months time, and at that point we’d just get an equal share in profits from sales and concerts.” Jughead shoved his hat off his head and ran his fingers through his hair. “I don't know. It seems too good.” 

“Don't we deserve some good? Come on, even if it turns out terrible it's only six months. You lived in a drive in projector room for eight.” 

“At least I was alone in the projector room. There's some serious Gossip Girl drama going on with that trio.” Jughead folded his hands under his head and stared up at the spotty ceiling. 

“Well that just sounds interesting,” Jellybean dropped his phone where it lived at night, on the pillow next to his face. “I know you get the deciding vote as you're Mr.I-have-custody-and-I-have-to-do-what's-right-for-the-both-of-us.” She paused to suck in a deep breath, having said the whole title in one breath, as Jughead laughed. 

“Let me guess, you vote yes on Prop Join A Random Band?” He asked, turning to lean on his fist.

“I'm thinking this will be our big break. Plus we can't afford Netflix and I miss Gossip Girl.”

“Noted.” Jughead tapped Jellybean’s dark hair, “now go to bed. We have a follow up meeting with them next Wednesday.”

______________ 

He had a sneaking suspicion that Archie couldn't wait until Wednesday, and Monday proved him right.

“What are you guys doing here?” Jughead asked as he carted the drums to their typical spot. Veronica spun in a slow circle, showing off her black dress, that had a layer of what he assumed was satin and a layer of lace covering it, extending past the satin to her wrists and neck. She looked like she should be at the funeral of her recently deceased husband who may or may not have been poisoned. 

“We’re trying to present some ‘Jonesin’ vibes, I think we did a pretty good job,” Veronica said when her twirl was completed. Jughead studied them for a moment. Archie had a flannel shirt tied around his waist and a black tank top on, showing off arms that belonged on a football team, not a busking band. Betty was just wearing a dark grey sweater and jeans, biting her lip as she held her keyboard to her chest, propped up on her toes like she couldn't stand the thought of the case touching the subway floor. Her hail mary attempt to meet the dark brooding grunge look was to slap on a coat of blood red lipstick. 

“I can see that, but why?” 

“Well we asked for you to make a decision, but then didn't give you a chance to play with us and see if it fits right. I didn't want to overload your schedule so we figured we’d just crash your busking. Any and all proceeds of course would still be yours. We’re purely here for long term investments.” Veronica spoke like the business person she was, he could see why Archie left band management in her hands. 

“We prepared a few songs you like,” Archie held out a post it note with a list of songs, before shrugging and doing his best to look bashful, “I stalked your Instagram.”

“We also prepared a bass and piano accompaniment to ‘The Drive-in.’” Betty held out sheet music for him to inspect, he took it and stared at it a moment, dumbfounded.

“So you guys just want to…” He searched for the word but the best he could come up with was wryly saying “jam?” 

“Yeah,” Archie said with no hint of irony. 

The sheet paper was ripped out of his hands, he spun around to see that Jellybean arrived, and all his chances of saying no disappeared.

“This is _beautiful._ ” Jellybean scanned the sheet before looking up at Jughead. “can we play together? Please?”

“Sure, let's have our first jam session where anyone could-” he stopped his snarky statement in its tracks, Betty’s green eyes were on him, encouraging him to think twice. He didn't want to disappoint her, he felt like Archie would just try again, and so would Veronica, but he wasn't sure if he could handle the frown of consideration Betty would give him if he said no. Even if somebody caught an epic fuck up on camera and they became YouTube famous for it. He also felt like he should point out that their busking license only covered the two of them. He gave jellybean one last long suffering look before shrugging and saying “yeah, sure.” 

He could tell that Veronica knew where he’d been going originally but that didn't stop her from smugly setting up an amp. 

Archie started a tirade of questions about Juilliard as they set up, and Jellybean responded with mounting enthusiasm. There was an awkward moment when they were all set up that they all just looked around for guidance. 

“Jellybean, you usually pick the setlist right?” Archie handed the list of songs they knew to her, “pick away.” 

She took a second to study the list before looking up, “Chris Cornell huh?” 

If she was trying to hint to the wider group that Jughead told her everything, it worked. Veronica shot Jughead an arched look as he nodded. 

“Ok let's start with ‘Black hole sun’ then, Jug, you ok with singing lead?” 

He wasn't, Betty’s eyes were still piercing him and he kinda wanted to quietly play guitar. _But united fronts_ , he nodded.

They were awkward and stilted for a moment, but Betty matched his voice on the chorus and of course she had the voice of an angel and nimble fingers to go with it. 

Next came Weezer, they lamented not living in Beverly Hills together as Archie sang back up. Then Jellybean asked, in a way that was really telling, if Archie wanted to sing “Drinking Again” which he did without complaint. Veronica sung “The Other Woman” with a more Lana Del Rey vibe than Nina Simone but Jellybean still nodded appreciatively. With the detour into 60s Blues over, Jellybean asked for “What’s My Age Again” where Veronica and Jughead harmonized.

They fell into a pattern, taking the lead from Jellybean and jumping in to help each other on choruses and vocals where necessary. There was a few missteps, a few points where they could've flowed just a tiny bit better, but overall not awful. 

After a few more 90s grunge hits with an early Alt-J song thrown in for good measure, Jellybean dramatically flipped the post it over and looked up at Archie. 

“That's all the songs you know?” 

“Not all of them, just the ones that we know you guys play.” 

“But we’ve only done thirty minutes-” at her petulant voice, Jughead shot her a glare. One that hopefully said _this is what you wanted, and don’t be a douche_. She clammed up, her mouth in a tight line.

“You guys don't repeat songs? You just play different music for what? Six hours?” 

Jughead shrugged, picking up his water bottle to take a sip. 

“We repeat sometimes but we have a solid three hours of material before we start repeating.” She looked at the post it note again. “I mean we could-” 

“Go rogue?” Betty offered with a shy smile, Jughead's heart skipped a beat, what was _wrong_ with him? “just kind of follow whatever we’re feeling? I'm sure we all have songs that we can just do.” 

“How about the ones that Jughead refuses to do?” As the temperamental artist she was, all struggles had been instantly forgotten with the first chance to make fun of her brother.

“No let's not-” Jughead started but jellybean was too quick. 

“Do one of you know all the words to ‘Lovefool’?” 

Betty raised her hand, “that would be me.” 

“Don't give into the little tyrant,” Jughead tried to plead but it was too late. They were already lifting their instruments. 

The difference in a post post-it world was notable. They took turns suggesting songs, occasionally teasing each other for their choices. They screwed up more often but laughed easily at their mistakes. Jellybean suggested “In The Air” three times before they gave in and let her have an obscenely long drum solo. Whenever there was a song one of them couldn't play, they'd sit out with ease, sipping water and filming the rest with Jughead’s phone to add to the Jonesin Instagram. Every so often they'd do a run of the post it notes together, getting better and better with each iteration. More and more Archie took over singing lead, which was fine with Jughead. He’d always preferred the sidelines to the center stage. 

He discovered that although Betty had the voice of an angel, she also preferred when someone else took the vocal lead. 

They also managed to convince Jellybean to sing lead on “You're Going To Go Far, Kid.” Her voice was gritty from years of second hand smoke, just like his, the only difference was she was self conscious about it. The audience loved it, and they got a fair number of dollars after that song.

Before he knew it, Jughead was turning to tell Jellybean “Our time is almost up. Last song?” 

“Actually, we never got around to singing ‘The drive in’” Archie pointed out.

Veronica placed a reassuring hand on his arm, “maybe we shouldn’t, it’s their song. Maybe it’ll make them uncomfortable?” 

“No,” Jughead lied, trying not to feel like he’d just taken out his heart and handed it to three virtual strangers. “Let's do it.” 

The song, which he’d written the week the drive in was destroyed, was a call back to a time period he referred to as _Before It Got Bad_. He wrote the song as a story about a boy who wants his family back, and wanted the relative innocence of childhood back. It was orginally a short story but he distilled it into a song when Jellybean had insisted they come up with their own songs. 

The piano gave it a wistful hint that it didn't have with just guitars and a drum. It was probably the kind of song that should be played with violins and cellos. He tried to sing to match the whimsical tone of the piano, but he slid back to his own musical style towards the end. Whatever he did worked because they got a few claps from the few stragglers still in the station and a couple more bills.

“Ok so I have some ideas,” Jellybean started to say after the last note ended, reaching over to take the sheet music from Betty. 

“We gotta pack up,” Jughead leaned down and scooped up the last of the bills. He’d been carefully taking some out throughout the course of the night. He turned towards Jellybean and arched his eyebrow, in a way he hope said hey distract them while I count out their portion. 

“Alright so we’ll talk about it later, but I just have one question.” Betty and Veronica turned towards Jellybean, she slanted her mouth with a mischievous edge. “You guys know some old school Spice Girls?” 

“I thought you’d never ask, Archie?” Veronica picked up her bass, and got ready to start strumming. 

Jughead sat on the nearby bench, quickly trying to count out and sort the money as they played ‘Say You’ll Be There.’ He wasn’t surprised to find nearly twice what they usually made. He took half and tucked it in his pocket, the other half he rolled up before looking over to check if any of the late night commuters had added to the guitar case. 

Instead he saw his sister, laughing as she drummed away. Veronica and Betty were both turned towards her, doing something that made her laugh harder, all while Archie tried to keep singing and playing the song. 

For too long, it’d been just the two of them. For a full year before Jughead had finally gotten custody, their mother had been AWOL. Their daily lives revolved around each other, with no room or time for friends while they tried to feed the wolf at their doors. 

But now the wolves were fed, and the station echoed with the sound of their music and laughter. 

It felt a little bit like family. 

“Alright,” he said as they began to pack up, “here’s your half.”

“Jughead, I meant what I said, we want no part of tonight’s profits.” Veronica held out a hand in a stop motion, as if that would stop him if he really wanted to give her the money. 

“Seriously, we made double what we usually make, you should take half of it. It was six hours of straight playing.” 

“Don’t worry about it man,” Archie added in, clapping Jughead’s shoulder as he hitched his guitar higher on his own. 

“Ok fine then. How about I use it to cook dinner for all of us tomorrow night?” Jughead tucked it into his other pocket, letting them share confused glances for dramatic effect. 

Jellybean’s eyes were bright as she met his, she knew his tendency towards dramatics. 

“You know,” letting the smile take over his face, as he clarified, “for our first official band meeting and to sign all the paperwork.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's like trying to make a new family out of thin air, and yet, Jughead finds it surprisingly easy.

The door was a cream white, he knew things like _cream white_ because he once spent a summer painting houses to make ends meet. The person behind the door only knew cream white from staring at different paint chips all day before ordering someone to slather it on the walls. 

“Jug? You gunna just stare at the door all day?” Jellybean asked from behind him. 

He turned and took a second to study her, her arms were full of paper bags, her black hair had been braided into pigtails and a beanie shoved over her head to ward off the early fall cold. She was his everything. And this would make her happy. 

“Just trying to mentally prepare myself for the slate of folk pop songs we’re going to have to learn.” 

Jellybean's response was to lean around him and kick at the door. As soon as she stood upright, the door was swinging open. 

Veronica was once again wearing her pearls, but with a purple sleeveless top that was tucked into a black skirt with a thin belt as a divide. Her eyes were bright and excited, as if she greeted a pair of pretentious arty loners every day. 

“Come on in! Archie will help with that-” and Archie was there, as if he was lurking behind the door waiting to help. He pulled all the bags out of Jellybean’s hands and stuck out an arm for Jughead’s guitar. 

“I got it, no worries.” But it was too late, Archie was taking his guitar and setting it on a couch before depositing all the food in the center of a long table. 

If there was an exact opposite to the small closet he and Jellybean lived in, it was Veronica’s two bedroom apartment with a Central Park view. It was all jewel tones and turn of the century aesthetics with modern convenience. Every item of furniture looked like it belonged in a museum, and every piece of art was original and not a print. Yet it was somehow still welcoming; maybe it was the books and homework scattered on the coffee table, or the cashmere sweater thrown over one of the high backed chairs. 

“Welcome to Casa de Lodge, Newly minted band HQ,” Veronica’s hand sweeped along the long dining room table as she sat at the head of it. “Thank you so much for bringing dinner.” 

“It's the least we could do after you guys gave us the best night we’ve had in months.” Jughead set the drinks on the table. Pulling out a chair next to Betty and hoping he didn’t scratch the floor. “Sorry I didn’t own up to cooking.”

“Trust me, it’s for the best.” Jellybean started distributing burgers from where she sat between Veronica and Archie. 

“I think we should leap right into it, as it is a school night,” Veronica said. And true to her word. She did. 

An hour later Jughead’s burger was a faint memory, as was his french fries, half of Jellybean’s burger, and Betty’s french fries that she let him steal. In that hour Jughead had learned one very key thing. 

Veronica was not to be messed with. 

It seemed all the research and organization had come from Betty, but it was Veronica who laid out the plans with a smile. It was a tiny bit of a relief to Jughead. He’d hated if they joined a band that essentially wanted to jam all day. There was just one flaw. 

“How are you so sure we’ll get a record label to pick us up by March?” Jughead asked as he took the last little bit of fry from Betty’s container. 

Another terrifying head tilt and grin from Veronica followed by, “Leave that to me Dave Grohl.” 

“On that note, bathroom break?” Jughead stood up, but Jellybean was already halfway down the hall. 

“Don’t worry, there’s a second one in the guest bedroom, through there,” Veronica pointed towards a door, and he nodded, making his way with more class than his little sister. 

The bedroom appeared to double as a band room. Archie’s guitar was propped up in a stand next to Betty’s keyboard. As promised there was a drum set already sitting next to the back wall. There were black bubbles on the wall he knew enough to recognize as sound proofing. 

He had a sinking feeling that the guest bathroom was probably bigger than his entire apartment, but he resolved never to invite any of the band members over. 

On his way back to the dining room table, a light glinted off a photograph, the familiar curve of Sweetwater River stood out him. A little blonde girl and redheaded boy were cheesing at the camera. But Jughead’s eyes were drawn to the black speck behind them, swinging into the river. 

“Hey so we’re thinking of _jamming_ a little more,” Betty said from the door. 

“That works,” Jughead muttered, studying the curve of the little boy frozen in time over the water. Trying to sort through his feelings as best as he could.

“You remember Sweetwater River?” Betty asked, stepping forward as she wringed her hands. 

“That's me right there,” Jughead pointed to the airborne child, “I have this same photo from a different angle. Somewhere I think.” 

“No way!” Betty took the photo from his hands and studied it. 

“Yeah I was thinking that I haven't seen Archie in years and all the sudden I'm in a house that has a photo of me. I don't even know where my photos are.” He crossed his arms as he leaned against the short nightstand, “at some point my parents started prioritizing things over taking pictures of their kids.” 

“What a shame, you two were such cute kids.” Betty doesn't touch on the obvious, the gaping wound Jughead denies with every breath. Instead she smiles and nudges him and he almost smiles in relief. 

It's weird having someone remember him. New York is a world away from Riverdale. In Toledo he’d just been another boy from a broken family trying to make ends meet. In New York City he was just another face in the crowd. Betty has memories of him that can't rectify his current life with. Eight year old Jughead didn't think his mom would leave, and certainly didn't think his dad would serve time for kidnapping and child endangerment. The Jughead Betty remembers is a completely different Jughead from the one standing next to her, he hopes the schism doesn't mean they expect something from him that he’s no longer capable of providing. 

“Yeah it's a shame.”

______________

Jellybean _screamed_ when she saw the drum set. It's more of a high pitched squeal but it hurts Jughead’s head all the same. He knows enough of the words she babbles to put together that it is a really good drum set. She lovingly caressed while he set up his guitar.

Jughead can't help how he makes a mental note to figure out how much of a dent buying that particular drum set would be. But before he can even lock it away Veronica is announcing that it's all Jellybean’s even if they drop after the 6 months, and during the 6 months it'll stay in Veronica's guest room. 

For a second he feels insufficient, as if he's failed as a guardian. He felt stupid as soon as the thought crossed his mind, but still turned away just in case any of his self doubt crossed his thought.

While Veronica is pointing out features, Jughead turned to Archie to make polite small talk. 

“Is this Betty’s room? Do you live here too?” 

“Yeah,” a bashful smile blooms on Archie’s face, “I sleep in Ronnie’s room.” 

Betty’s face is serene, no obvious tension on her face, but Jughead caught a flash of _something_ in her eye.

It clicks into place, Betty once loved either Archie or Veronica, but Archie and Veronica got together. Leaving Betty to play the friend who is _totally over it! Don't worry!_

He wants to say something or choose a side, but choosing a side means having an opinion and part of him is fairly certain they're going to edge him out within a week, he started asking questions about Archie's college, the one he took a break from for a year to work on the band. 

Veronica picked up her bass, and they all turn towards Jellybean. 

“Back when we were in Ohio we’d always start band practice with ‘In The Air’ by Phil Collins to warm up,” she said hesitantly, as if she's not sure if she wants to start a new process or not. 

“Is that why you know all the words? Impressive.” Archie gently punched Jughead’s shoulder as Jughead nodded. 

“Yeah, it was a dark time.” 

“Let's do our own song?” Veronica suggested, pulling her strap over her head. 

“Let's do something a little more visualization wise, like ‘We Will Rock You?’” Betty suggested. 

“Dibs first verse!” Archie immediately responded. 

“Ok I'll take third,” Jughead muttered as he tried to get his guitar to lay right.

“That leaves me in the middle, if you two want to harmonize on the chorus?” Veronica stepped up to her own mic as Jellybean and Betty nodded. Betty sang just a tiny bit more than jellybean tended to, but not nearly as much as Veronica or Archie wanted to. He wasn't sure why, her voice was just as great if not better.

There was a moment of confusion when Archie tried to slip into “We Are The Champions.” Betty pointed out that the song would work as a good bookend. 

They play a few of the songs Archie had written and handed off to them last night. Then another shot at “The Drive In” with Jellybean’s alterations. They take a few shots at “Ten Minutes Left” which Jellybean had written when she had ten minutes left in eighth grade. It's a silly and surprisingly heart warming song about moving on and changing in the world. They cycle back through and then spend a few minutes discussing ideas of new songs. 

After ten minutes of talking, Archie started singing “We Are The Champions.” They went along with it and returned to the dining room table to talk album ideas. 

“What if it's a concept album?” Betty offered as she played with a water bottle. 

“What's the concept? Here's our music, hope it doesn't suck?” Jughead asked. 

“No, like an introduction, we each do a song on something that shaped us, or about ourselves or our friendships and families.” 

“I think that’d be great, that way we can incorporate some of our older songs - if you want,” Archie looked hopeful and earnest. 

Jughead and Jellybean shared a look, debating the pros and cons without saying a word. 

“You're gunna have to let us sleep on it.” Jughead finally said. 

“By all means! Please do, and within a week let’s each bring five songs about ourselves to the band meeting.” Veronica’s phone is out as she speaks, adding to their band agenda. 

“Oh yeah, let’s write five songs in one week.” Jughead snorted, already prepared to be the asshole of the group. 

“Fine, long term goals are five, short term goals are at least one, hopefully two. Good?” 

Jughead nodded, and started packing his guitar away, ready to go home and collapse into bed.

_______________

Jughead had ten messages from Archie before he even managed to roll out of bed. It started with an innocent enough request for coffee at some point that week, but then devolved into a song Idea Archie was working on for homework.

It's been less than three weeks since they reconnected and he can already tell that Archie has the easy kind of talent that just rolls off him and into new songs. He agreed to coffee, mostly so he could probe about the frown inducing Grundy, and gave his thoughts about the song. 

By the time he’s on his way to class he has his own song kicking around in his head. It's dark and depressing, but he has a feeling that’ll be his niche in the music world. 

As the instructor opened the door to the auditorium, allowing students to filter in, Jughead took a seat about halfway up and toward the side, where no one usually sat. He chose a lesser used notebook and flipped to the back to jot down a few lyric ideas.

With his pen tapping against the paper, he looked up, scanning the room quickly, before snapping his head back to the entrance way. 

Betty’s eyes met his own, and instantly she brightened, crossing the huge room to sit in the empty seat next to him. 

“I didn’t know you were in this class,” Betty somehow managed to sit in the narrow and uncomfortable chair with grace. Dropping her bag into the seat next to her, “you don't mind if I sit here right?” 

“If you're ok with the poor board vision and won't take your inability to follow along out on me then I'm all set.” 

“I promise not to.” 

And she doesn’t. What she does do is attentively take notes, frequently making comments about the professor’s weak points (misogyny, just a enough racism to be noticeable) in the margin, while marking what she might need to double check. 

Jughead is taking the journalism class as an elective that fits into his program, he wasn’t planning on paying attention at all, but he finds himself listening to every word so Betty’s shorthanded and in-depth notes make sense. 

They have a ten minute break about halfway through the class, and Betty spends it ranting about how half of her instructors are incredible, and the other half think that women should stay out of newspapers, or stay in tight dresses on the late night news. 

Jughead, who purposefully chose a solitary profession, just nodded along, enraptured. 

When class wrapped up she held her books to her chest and asked him his thoughts. 

His treatise on what he’s observed in his brief foray into the journalism world (i.e. judging news articles and the three hour class they had just suffered through) took them to the cafeteria, where Jughead patiently waited outside for Betty to get her food and sit on a bench with him. His own food is part of a large batch of pasta he’d made sunday night for him and jellybean to eat all week. 

By the time Jughead’s wrapped up his opinion corner, Betty has to rush off to her next class. She’s gone with a friendly wave and a smile over her shoulder. 

Time has never gone by so fast in Jughead’s world. He’s left with a breathless smile and enough energy to carry him through the next lecture.

________________

Jughead noticed how frequently Jellybean’s phone lights up with messages from Veronica, and it almost makes him smile before he realized how little her phone lit up in general.

“So,” he finally asked on their way to the following Sunday band practice. “Any cool people at school?” 

“You've literally never sounded more like an uncool dad.” Is Jellybean’s automatic response. 

“I'm just checking.” He responded sullenly. 

“Well, someone has been texting a certain _someone_ lately,” Jellybean arched a brow, or at least tried to. Her beanie blocked any forehead movement. 

“Well, we go to school together.” Jughead can feel his face heat even as Jellybean attempts the eyebrow maneuver again. “Listen, it’s not like that. She has a year at NYU and she already knows me so.”

“Ok, whatever you say Don Juan.” 

“That doesn’t even make sense,” Jughead muttered as they stepped up to Veronica’s door. 

Before he could even knock on the cream color door it’s being yanked open. Archie is taking up the entire doorway and his smile could restart the sun “I have a new song!” 

“So does Jug, let's do this.” Jellybean’s smile Matches Archie’s in intensity. She flounced in after him, leaving Jughead to follow as his more sedate pace. 

Jughead is slightly surprised to see Betty wringing her hands just at the edge of the hallway, waiting for him, but he doesn’t let the surprise cross his face. 

“Hey, how’s it going?” It’s the seventh day in a row that he’s seen Betty, and he can’t remember the last time he’d seen someone who had willingly gone out of their way to hang out with him seven days in a row. He felt like their friendship went from a zero to a hundred in under a minute flat. 

“You can’t tell Veronica, but I am freaking out.” She took the guitar from him and set it on the floor, shepherding him out the door and into the hallway. 

“Why?” He asked, as something unfamiliar bloomed in his chest. She was _confiding_ in him. Not even Jellybean confided in him anymore. 

“We have to have these lyrics done by tuesday right? Well, my lyrics are too real and they’re going to get upset.” She pulled a folded paper out of her bra (he tried not to look at the origin too much, but he failed slightly) and handed it to him. 

Lyrics are scrawled, crossed out, rewritten, notes written in the margin, and the final lyrics are highlighted. It’s hard to read but he does his best, slowly letting the words sink in. 

“I was going to bring it up yesterday but you were on your ‘which Capote book is the best’ thing,” Betty said, before opening her mouth to continue. 

“Shush, let me read this.” 

The lyrics are raw, if she put her heart on the page it would still be beating and pumping out blood. “Rock In My Shoe” is circled at the top so he figured it was the title, and it fit. It was about being the left out part of a triangle. The narrator (Betty, he assumed) was trying to desperately get over a one sided crush on Character A (pronouns hinted towards Archie) who was in a happy and established relationship with Character B (this time the pronouns hinted towards Veronica). Jughead scratched a mark in the _Called It_ column, as he looked up at Betty. 

“This song is amazing. What exactly is the problem here?” 

“The problem is that this song is all I can think about, and every time we bring up this stupid crush I had in Archie, everything gets all weird again,” Betty threw up her hands and leaned against the wall, “how am I supposed to come up with something better than this by tuesday?”

“Well, this is going to be hard to top, but I honestly think you can do it.” He sucked in a breath, studying the lyrics again, “but why would you want to?”

Betty scrubbed her hands over her face before pointing towards the door, “I don't want them to be upset by it. I think we’re finally moving past it.” 

“Consider it cathartic. You're taking out all the dirty laundry and throwing it on the floor.” He looked at the lyrics “plus I think it's fairly obvious that you no longer like him anymore.” 

Betty started pacing, her hair Swinging every time she turned, “do you think so?” 

“Yeah, and if they get weird you can stay in my apartment, although keep in mind that it's a 260 square foot and I share it with my sister.”

Betty rolled her eyes at him, and he felt the heat rising again, he rubbed his neck and made a vague gesture toward the door “come on, let's go in.”

They sat in a ring on Veronica’s couches, taking turns reading their lyrics and workshopping them. Archie’s is about surviving through traumatic events with the help of friends. Jughead isn't afraid to say that he tuned out when Jellybean started talking about musical notes, scribbling away on the paper. 

Jughead’s song is next and Jughead is already regretting getting this project done early. Or even writing the song at all.

“Wow,” Archie said after he set down his lyrics. 

“So is making people cry your thing or?” Veronica asked, picking up the lyrics. 

“It's looking like that.” Jughead had written about the event that had shaped his whole life. A night he and Jellybean slept in his dad’s truck because Jughead punched his mom’s new boyfriend. He spent the whole night plotting out a game plan to get custody and improve their lives.

“I remember that night,” Jellybean tugged the page out of Veronica's hand. Everyone was studiously ignoring how Jellybean’s mascara was smeared. “You kept your hands at ten and two on the steering wheel. Maybe I should write a reprise.” 

Betty was studying him, with an intensity that made him slightly nervous. 

“I don't know how much it'll resonate with people. But you know, talk about defining moments. That was definitely one.” Jughead sometimes woke in the middle of the night, thinking he was still in that car watching the headlights zoom by as he tried to figure out what happened next. 

“I think it'll resonate more than you know, you have no musical notations-” Archie pointed out.

“I usually write them for him, he's a storyteller not a bard.” Jellybean butted in. 

“Bards are story tellers, but yeah, she usually writes the music.” Jughead shot back, tempering the end of his statement with a shrug.

“In that case let's play around with Archie’s song,” Veronica stood up in one swift motion. It was Jughead’s turn to return the intense gaze towards Betty, _your move._

“Actually I have one too,” Betty pulled out the lyrics again. She didn't read them herself. Instead she handed them to Veronica to read aloud.

________________

Their responses are exactly what Betty assumed they'd be. The awkwardness doesn't lift for the rest of the band practice, it only worsened when Jellybean asked who the dude in the song is. Jughead is doing his best not to feel guilty when they go their separate ways,’We Are The Champions’ still ringing in his head.

The guilt is partially assuaged the next morning when Betty texted him asking him where he is. 

She sat the end of the bar, watching as he cleaned up after the Monday lunch rush of businessmen trying to make deals and sell products. Betty’s book is on the bar, pages against the smooth Mahogany as she scribbled away in a notebook. 

He purposefully takes a task near her, slicing lemons for the Monday night rush of alcoholics, so he can find out why she’s there and not in her room. 

He doesn't need to say anything, she tapped her pencil against the paper and looked up at him, “you were right.” 

“I often am,” he tried for a smirk, unsure if it landed or not.

“Airing it out was good. We talked about it after you two left last night.” She rolled her shoulders in a slow shrug, “it's like poison, there's no changing how I felt about him but now there's always this uncertainty and doubt. It's good to get it out.” 

“I won't say I told you so,” which is essentially a way of saying he told her so. She rolled her eyes.

Her phone lit up next to her, Archie’s face smiling up at them from the screen. Betty scooped her phone up quickly. 

“Hey,” Betty said, casting her eyes up towards Jughead, “sorry I'm late, I lost track of time at Jughead’s bar.”

“Do you want me to join you two instead?” Archie’s voice is quiet but Jughead can hear him loud and clear. 

He can feel Betty’s eyes on the side of his face as he tried to focus on his limes and lemons.

“No, it's okay, I'll head over your way.” Betty said as she jumped down from her stool. She made the effort to wave on his line of sight before heading out the door. 

Smiling, Jughead shoved all the sliced limes into their container.

________________

This time Jughead does show the surprise when he sees the rest of the band at their busking spot.

“What's your excuse this week?” He asked Veronica, as Archie leaned forward to help set up the drum set. 

“Practicing together is vital until you can get rid of some of your shifts and we can stick to a better schedule.” 

Jughead didn't debate it, at the end of the night he split the money five ways, his and Jellybean’s portion still bigger than what it had been.

________________

Tuesday night is spent going over Jellybean’s song and Veronica's song before trying to set a band schedule. They hit an impasse because Jughead’s shifts have always been wildly unpredictable. That plus he never knows if he’s going to have a call in the middle of the night. They work around it, choosing a set number of nights to have a practice if Jughead isn’t working.

The following Sunday they have another ‘discuss songs’ session. It’s like a hole has been poked in a dam. All five of them are churning out emotional songs that range from happy to downright depressing. Jughead feels awkwardly exposed at almost every band meeting, even though he’s picked up his friendship with Archie like they hadn’t missed a day in the last decade. Veronica is a bit harder for him to connect with, but they have moments where they get along. 

In two weeks he only went one day without seeing Betty. 

He wants to bring it up, casually mention it the night before when she hung around the bar with her fake ID on his Saturday shift. But he doesn't. He continues to not bring it up as a new week started; Monday at busking, Tuesday practice, Wednesday class. 

He does bring up quite a few other things, namely his thoughts on Stanley Kubrick (great movies, horrible person) Grisham novels ( _just say hashtag-goals Jug!_ She said laughing _never Betty, never_ ) and how he has the sinking feeling his sister doesn't have any friends. 

It's the most he's ever opened up to someone. And she’s responding in kind, telling him about her mom, how she secretly doesn't like Disney movies ( _you monster!_ He said with faux exaggeration, _don't tell anyone!_ She responded) and how she thinks Polly and Jason would've broken up years ago if it wasn't for the kids. She also managed to sneak in the factoid that Jason’s favorite kidnapper was FP, and how Jason felt like Clifford would've killed him if it wasn't for FP’s interference. Jughead doesn't know how to feel about that. 

Between trying to make ends meet, band practice, and Betty, he doesn't know how to feel about anything. He's never felt the deep pull in his stomach like the one he feels when the light hits Betty’s hair, or when she says something particularly defiant. He's exhausted and stressed but yet so completely happy. He found himself at the campus two hours early just to talk to her, even though he squeezed in a couple hours at the bar after practice the night before. 

He wondered, not for the first time, how he looked to her. If she saw the excitement in his eyes when she walked into a room, if she saw how the smile on his face belied the dark circles under his eyes.

If she did, she didn’t mention anything. 

Instead she kept texting him at all hours, and he kept responding. They’d always find a quiet moment in band practices to bow their heads together and catch up, even if they saw each other earlier that day. 

By the time all twenty five songs are laid out, Jughead already has a dedicated seat at the table next to Betty. They’ve singled themselves out as the band members who largely don’t have any artistic opinions. Most of their band meetings are spent casting each other _looks_ as Archie and Jellybean argue over a note. 

“Clearly, we’re going to have an issue with having too many songs.” Jellybean sucked on her thumbnail, “I mean we’re all still writing at least one more, we’ll probably have thirty before it’s done.”

“Don’t worry,” Archie scratched the back of his head, shifting the papers around, “we’ll figure it out.”

And for once, Jughead feels like they will.

________________

“I can’t believe we’ve had a month of classes already,” Betty pulled out the syllabus, “this final project is creeping up on us.”

“What do you want the project to be?” Jughead asked, trying to catch a frito in his mouth. 

“Presumptuous,” Betty teased, batting her eyes at him. 

“Alright, I’ll go work with one of my other classmates,” he looked around the large hall of their class. “Oh right.” 

“Fair, I was thinking maybe we could do corruption among athletes?” Betty offered hesitantly. Jughead already knew full well that she had a stack of articles ready to go. 

“So then we’re -” Jughead halted mid story at the name on his phone, buzzing on the table between them, “sorry I have to- hello?” 

“Mr. Jones?” An interchangeable voice asked, instead of Jellybean’s usual voice when she calls from the main office. It wasn’t what he was expecting at all. 

“Is everything okay?” Terror gripping him, the kind he hasn’t felt in years. 

“Everything is fine but we need you to come to the school as soon as possible.” 

“I'll be right there.” He clicked his phone off and turned to Betty, “I have to go to Juilliard.” 

“I'll take notes for you!” She shouted at him, as he left with a wide wave.

________________

The woman studied Jughead for a moment before checking the hall, “Son, did you see a Mr. Jones around here?” She asked.

“That would be me, I’m Mr. Jones.” 

She studied him for a long moment, “Did you have Jellybean when you were five?” 

“No, I’m her brother,” Jughead stood up, wiping his sweaty palms on his pants. 

“We really need to have one of her parents here.” 

The urge is on the tip of his tongue, to snap out that his dad is in prison, and that his mom was long gone. “I have legal custody.” 

“In that case, come on in.”

________________

“Fighting?” Jughead wasn't quite sure what to say, so he just repeated it slightly louder, “fighting?”

Jellybean slouched on her bed, the bruise on her face mixing with the shadows of her bed. 

“What possible reason would you have to fight someone?” Jughead continued, his mind supplying him with all the worst scenarios. 

Whatever Jellybean said was muffled and incomprehensible. 

“Fine you don't have to tell me, but what if you had gotten kicked out of Juilliard?” He didn’t like the cadence of his voice, he sounded just a tad bit too much like their mother used to sound. 

Jellybean grumbled again, but this time he made out a faint “Would it have been so bad?”

“Excuse me?” He asked.

“You're putting too much pressure on me!” She finally snapped out at him. He reeled, as if she reached out and slapped him. 

“What do you mean I'm putting too much pressure on you? Is Juilliard-” 

“No, it's not Juilliard, and it's not - it's not anything. But sometimes I feel like the only thing that makes you happy is when I'm happy.” She stood up, glaring.

He stared at her for a moment, for the first time in his life, he was completely speechless. 

“Don't get me wrong, I love that you spoil me, and that you let me talk you into doing things. But what if I got sick? Or died? What would happen to you?” He doesn’t know how he lost track of the conversation, or why they’re going from _fighting_ to _what if I got sick_. He wanted to point out that he’s not the one on trial. 

On top of that, he had a deep rooted aversion to thinking about any harm coming to Jellybean. He tried to imagine a world without her in it and he came up blank. 

“What if I suddenly decided drumming wasn't for me and I wanted to join Dad’s gang and run dime bags to high school students?” 

He felt his immediate response _I’d do everything in my power to stop you_ was probably not the response she wanted. 

“Jellybean, what do you want me to say here?” 

“I don't want you to _say_ anything I want you to have your own life!” Jellybean rubbed at her eye, her mascara streaking away, “you're so adamant that I should have a better life that you don't even care about yours!” 

“That's not true, I'm going to NYU-” 

“And you're trying to graduate early so that you can focus on me? And I know for a fact that if it wasn't for the no gap year clause in your scholarship you probably would've just tried to ‘take some time off.’ And! And! I had to tell you to apply in the first place! You weren't even going to go to college when all you've ever wanted was to be a pretentious douchebag. You're so obsessed with making ends meet that you're not taking any time to care for yourself!” 

“I take loads of time for myself!” 

“You've barely written in weeks, you spend all your free time fretting over me and tryin’ to cram as many shifts in. I had to talk you into this whole band thing and now I have to shove you at your friends-”

“Wait, hold on, are you _taking care of me_? That's not your job, your job is -” 

“Juillard! I know! My job is to follow my dreams and be happy. But damn it we’re in this together. You're so obsessed with me having a happy teenage years that you're just letting your own slip by. And I don't want you to wake up fifteen years from now resenting me for taking your best years away.” 

“I could never resent you.” He tried to imagine a world where he felt anything other than love or admiration for his little sister. He couldn’t. 

“I just want you to stop and smell the damn roses. Be a little selfish. Let me look out for you the same way you look out for me.” She rubbed her eye again, “I need to know that if something horrible happened to me you'd still have a life.” 

“Do you think a band, friends, or college or anything would make it suck less if you died? If something happened to you, I'd be fucked no matter how much of a life I have. You're my family. Pretty much all of my family.” He held up a hand as she opened her mouth, “but I'm picking up what you're laying down. I'll try, on occasion, to be more selfish.” 

At her smug look of satisfaction he felt the need to continue. 

“But I think you're laboring under the pretense that I actually want things like friends or a girlfriend.” 

“Please, I know you Jug. You play lonely loner so you don't have to be afraid people are going to ditch you like our parents did.” 

His hand, still held outright in a stop motion, faltered, and he leaned forward against the bunk. Jones siblings; perceptive assholes.

“Ok, I will be more selfish, and I'll hang out with people and make friends.” His words made her grin, water still making her eyes shine. “But you have to live with the fact that I'm just being selfish in order to spoil you.” 

Her smile faltered at the Catch-22 he'd put in front of her. 

To nail in the coffin, he turned to her and smirked “and we have to watch ‘An American Werewolf In London’ before the band meeting.”

“I hate that movie.” 

“Too bad.” He paused for a second and looked at her. “Why do I get the feeling you punched someone over me?” 

“They said we were scholarship kids and our parents were huffing nitrous oxide instead of raising us.” Jellybean’s voice began to warble again, and Jughead desperately wanted to take her away from the edge of tears. 

“That's…” Jughead frowned, “specific.” 

“I didn't mean to start anything but - sometimes they just get under my skin. Then I was punching them, and my ride or die bestie was helping me out,” Jellybean went back to fiddling with the edge of her blanket, and Jughead realized with a sinking feeling that _sometimes_ meant this wasn’t the first time. 

“You're not even close to the only scholarship kid there and our parents weren't huffing nitrous oxide, sometimes you just gotta-” 

“Let it go, I know.” Sullen, frowning, Jellybean dropped further on the bed. Jughead couldn’t stand to see her upset so he studied the bookshelf for a moment, trying to find a way to cheer her up. 

“Alright, I'd ground you, but you have no life. Although, apparently,” he turned to look at her again, with just a hint of disbelief, “you have a ride or die bestie? How come I've never heard of her?” 

That got Jellybean to smile, crossing her arms over her chest. 

“You have plans with her don't you?” Jughead rubbed his eyes, exhausted. 

“She wanted to catch a movie after detention tomorrow.” Jellybean at least had the common sense to not sound smug about it. 

“Fine, you can do that, then you're grounded.” 

“You’re really bad at this whole not spoiling me thing.” 

“And you get to tell the band why we can't have practice for a week.”

That one made the smile slip off her face.

________________

“We have to cancel what?” Veronica asked, her hands hitched high on her hips and disapproval marked in every line of her body.

“Well _someone_ has detention every day.” Jughead said with a glare towards Jellybean, “but if we could make it up with an extra practice next week?” 

“Or an all day Saturday practice, because _someone_ promised to quit their job as a barback.” Jellybean had the same wide glare right back at him. 

“We’re going to do both, now that we have our songs, we need to get the rhythm down before we start recording. Which is still TBD but trust me, I am not going to sit on this for very long.” Veronica gracefully glided into the band room, where other people would’ve stomped angrily. 

Between the Queen tracks, they played all their originals. Jellybean and Archie would end every song with a discussion on what would sound best, how to tweak things, as Veronica kept getting text messages. Jughead assumed that the only reason why she’d answer them, or take phone calls in the hall, were because they were somehow related to the meteoric rise to fame she was predicting. 

That left Betty to beckon Jughead over to her keyboard. 

“Is everything ok?” She inclined her head slightly towards Jellybean, and he nodded. 

“She got into it with a couple bullies from school. Apparently she has a ride or die-” He caught the look on Betty’s face, “you knew didn’t you?”

“Jellybean talks about Megan when you’re not in the room,” Betty offered hesitantly, “I’m not sure why.”

“She doesn’t want me to be jealous that she has friends and I don’t.” Jughead couldn’t even find it in himself to glare at her, if the tables were turned he’d do the same thing. 

“You have friends,” Betty insisted, gesturing towards Archie. 

“Thanks Betts.” He could see Archie and Jellybean wrapping it up, so he started to move back towards his own spot. Betty grabbed the edge of his flannel shirt. 

“You have me.” 

This time, he was more earnest, honest, and sincere when he said “Thanks Betts.”

________________

Jughead’s guitar was propped up against the door, ready to go an hour ago but Jellybean was still arguing with Archie on the couch.

“I mean, if we take the album and we split into two, then we could have a really cool thing going.” Jellybean gestured towards the band, Veronica was sitting at the kitchen island on the phone, and he and Betty were sprawled out on a loveseat, as far away from the bickering duo as they could be. “We drop half of a concept album this summer, and the other half next summer and we call it -” 

“Cheeseburgers and Milkshakes, but the one we drop this summer is called Cheeseburgers, and the one we drop next summer is called And Milkshakes.” Jughead jumped in sassily, trying to draw attention to the fact that he was tired and wanted to go _home_.

“That’s actually a really good idea,” Veronica said from behind him, and Jughead is equally offended and disgusted. 

“Your liberal use of the word ‘actually’ hurts my feelings.” But Veronica ignored him, moving to sit next to Archie. 

“This is _actually_ great,” Veronica managed to somehow ignore him and point him out at once, “I have some meetings lined up with some labels, the sooner we can record the better. And there’s a few songs that are responses to other songs so we can split them up into two albums.” Veronica paused for a moment and that was enough for Archie to turn to Jellybean and start arguing about the bridge on a song. 

Jughead groaned and sank deeper into the couch, slim fingers plucked at his sleeve and he looked up at Betty. 

“I have your notes from class in the other room, can I give them to you?” She was already moving towards the room before he could even respond. He followed, always happy to spend some time alone with Betty. 

With all the instruments tucked away, the room became Betty’s again. She did the responsible thing and put her bookbag into the closet where it’d be out of the way. 

She’s angrily ranting about something awful their professor, the towering example of misogyny that he is, had said in class as she pulled out his notes, and all Jughead can see is the way the light plays off the lines of her face. He’s never had a crush like this before and he’s fairly aware that he’s more gone than he thought he would be. 

Betty’s rant comes to it’s natural end and he wants to say something, anything, to keep her going, so their excuse for a private conversation doesn’t end. 

Instead it hits him, that they’re alone in a dark room and she’s everything he never thought he’d get to know. And she’s smiling at him like all she wants to do is stand in this dark room with him and talk. 

_Be Selfish_

Her eyes flit to his lips and back to his own, so quickly he almost missed it, but it’s enough encouragement to have him stepping forward, closer than he’s ever stood to her before, or any girl. 

He’s leaning down and she’s meeting him halfway, standing up on her toes to help. 

And he’s kissing her, it’s gentle and innocent. His hand cups her chin just as her arms wrap around his waist. He wants it to last forever but they break apart. 

“So about the project,” she starts, and he chuckled and took a full step back. 

“I’m kissing you and you’re thinking about the project?” He wouldn’t expect anything else, her beautiful mind wouldn’t turn off for more than a second at a time. 

“Maybe we should meet for dinner tomorrow while your sister is in detention and talk about it?” Her fingers go to the buttons of his flannel shirt like magnets who can’t let go of him for too long. 

“Yeah, that would be great.” his mind is screaming at him, _say it’s a date_ but the door is opening and Betty is dropping her hands. 

“You ready to go?” Jellybean asked, like it wasn’t her fault that they are an hour late. 

Jughead just nodded in response, giving Betty a half wave as he followed Jellybean out the door. 

Their walk home is brisk, and the whole time Jellybean is talking about the merits of going back to “JB” as a nickname, or is it derivative to have a nickname of a nickname. He wants to make his usual comments about their cursed given names, he just can’t kick the smile enough to talk. 

When they get home, Jellybean makes a pointed comment about how they watched a movie for him, they should listen to an album for her, all while pointedly spinning her “Pink Floyd; The Wall” record. 

He gives in and she sets up the record player. He’s asleep by the time the third track is halfway over, the smile still on his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I normally hate doing chapter fics because I'm afraid life will happen half way through and I'll be slow to update. I finally decide to do a chapter fic and alas, life happens. 
> 
> The rating jumped up because of the next chapter, and I think it might take two to wrap up this story. This chapter is very much a "from point A to point B" chapter.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Veronica's plans are like a well oiled machine not protected under the lemon law. Archie wants to be friends again. Jellybean has her own problems. Betty's trying hard to please everyone. 
> 
> And Jughead? Jughead just wants to please Betty.

The next morning, disaster strikes. Jughead is hiding in a remote corner of the library, staring at a blank computer screen, when his cellphone lights up like christmas. 

_Veronica Lodge_ : GROUP CHAT TIME

 _Archie Andrews_ : Hey everyone!

 _Jellybeanie Weenie_ : group chat GROUP CHAT G R O U P C H A T

At the last message Jughead shook the cobwebs out of his eyes, and began to type out his addition. 

_Jughead_ : Aren’t you supposed to be repenting for your violent nature? Stop texting in class.

 _Betts_ : Sorry guys, I’m going to have to mute this. My mom just showed up?? I’ll probably have to maintain radio silence until she leaves tomorrow night. Bye!!

 _Archie Andrews_ : Tell Mrs. Cooper I say hi! 

_Veronica Lodge_ : Unacceptable! We have band business to attend to! Bring Mrs. Cooper along, her judgemental eye will help us. 

_Archie Andrews_ : She’s definitely muted us. 

_Jellybeanie Weenie_ : I’m still here tho. I’m hiding in the closet from Angelique because she heard me describing her coke habits to meg. 

Jughead frowned, looking closely at his phone. Radio silence until tomorrow? Coke habits? What was even going on? As always, he started with Jellybean and worked his way back.

 _Jughead_ : Please stop

He shot off in the group message, and instantly toggled to his texts with Betty. As it had been last, an excited message about a time and place to meet and his vehement agreement (that he’d actually edited down to a quick _Sounds good! See you then_ ). No mention of a last minute visit from a parent.

As he stared, a bubble appeared. Three little dots contemplated their existence in the universe, and before he could type out anything Betty had sent him a message. 

_Betts_ : I’m SO Sorry! I was in the middle of texting you that I’d have to reschedule when Veronica started the group chat. Raincheck?

A stream of emojis littered the end of the message. All of them enthusiastically sad. Jughead had to remind himself of how she’d smiled at him as he walked out of the apartment the night before - tamping down the self conscious questions bubbling up in his chest. Previews of messages from Veronica, Archie, and Jellybean flashed across the top of his screen, but he couldn’t pay attention to that until he’d figured out what to say to Betty. 

_Jughead_ : No problem! I’ll be here. Project can wait. 

More frowning emojis from Betty. Emboldened, Jughead typed out another message. 

_Jughead_ : I’ll miss you though.

As soon as he did it, he groaned, sinking into the floor. He was playing all of his cards, and he wasn’t sure if he even had any cards to play. A beep had him looking at his phone again. 

_Betts_ : I’ll miss you too. XX

Jughead smiled, and read the message again before sighing and toggling back to the group chat. 

 

 _Jellybeanie Weenie_ : I’m KIDDING! I have a free period. 

_Jellybeanie Weenie_ : Angelique is definitely doing coke tho

 _Jellybeanie Weenie_ : Also her real name is helen and no one has told her that Angelique is a stupid stage name. 

_Veronica Lodge_ : Ok well good to know Juilliard's high school program has a dark side. Avoid any girl named Helen. They cannot be trusted. 

_Veronica Lodge_ : I’ll catch Betty up later. But I have WONDERFUL news! We’ve been given a special spot to perform at a bar in Brooklyn. Provided we all wear under 21 bands and JB doesn’t leave backstage or the stage area. It’s SATURDAY NIGHT and I expect you all to be there and be EXCITED. 

_Archie Andrews_ : !!!!!!!!!!!!!!! That’s great news!

 _Jellybeanie Weenie_ : YES YES YES CAN MEG COME

 _Veronica Lodge_ : This is the perfect level of excitement! And no she cant. Sorry love, but they’re really kiboshing the whole 15 year old thing here. Although they loved your videos - who wouldnt? You’re genius with drumsticks. Just us! And NO DRINKING ARCHIBALD. 

_Jellybeanie Weenie_ : You’re making me blush :D 

_Archie Andrews_ : I’m not going to be drinking before our first big break! 

Jughead sighed, trying to figure out what he wanted to respond to first. The inescapable presence of drugs in modern America, or the fact that trying to do a set in four days was crazy. 

_Jughead_ : I really doubt playing at a bar in brooklyn will be our big break. We dont even have the album list set or anything. 

He tapped his thumbs against the screen, thinking before he added:

 _Jughead_ : this is me excited. 

_Veronica Lodge_ : Au Contraire Holden! A contact I know at a recording studio will be at this show. THIS MIGHT BE IT GUYS! We’re picking the Set list TONIGHT

 _Jellybeanie Weenie_ : Ummmmmmmmm

 _Jughead_ : I hate to establish myself as that guy in the band, but Jellybean has detention and also Betty just said she can’t. 

_Veronica Lodge_ : Fair. Tomorrow night, at the apartment! Be there or be square my little munchkins! 

Jughead set the phone down on his bag. It was only Wednesday night, that gave them next to no time to get their act together. Both literally and metaphorically. 

“Well, the devil works hard but Veronica Lodge works harder,” Jughead said to no one, and returned to his blank screen. His mind more torn up than it had been just moments before. 

His phone vibrated again, this time with a message from Archie. 

_Archie Andrews_ : Hey, now Veronica is going to go shopping with Betty and her Mom tonight. Do you want to grab a coffee?

 _Jughead_ : Nice to know I’m second choice. 

_Jughead_ : Sure.

_______________ 

They meet up at a coffee shop, Archie is standing outside looking concerned as he rubbed his hands against the cold fall air. Jughead cuts across traffic to jerk a head nod towards Archie. He responds in kind to his bro nod of recognition, and Jughead took a moment to remind himself that he could _do this_. He had friends before Ohio, and he’d even had a social life in the Southside. Sure it was easier to just …. Not. But Jellybean was making it fairly obvious that it was no longer an option to check “no thanks” on the social aspect of his life.

Archie insisted that it was his turn to pay for the coffees, which made Jughead point out that it wasn’t a _date_ and he could pay for himself. Which Archie argued that Jughead should just get the next round. Before long they’re sitting at a small table in the window, steam rising from their coffees and a heavy silence between them. 

“So,” Archie started with a nod, “how’s your week going?”

“I saw you last night,” Jughead pointed out, wondering why this was so off beat. 

“Right, right…” Archie trailed off, nodding yet again. 

“What did we used to talk about when we were kids?” Jughead asked, deciding that if he was going to be forced into social life he might as well grab it by the horns. 

“What camping trips we’d go on during the summer, what we’d do if Betty found out about the secret guy hangout-” 

“Let her in?” Jughead added. 

“I doubt we’d have much of a choice.” 

They laughed at that, because it was true. Though there were gaps in his memory, he’d remembered enough of how the three of them were thick as thieves. When the silence lapsed again it felt more companionable. 

“Listen, I had a reason for asking you to come out here,” Archie started, grimacing slightly, “I wanted to apologize.”

“For what?” Jughead asked, but he had a feeling he already knew. He’d gotten lost in everything else and he’d long ago stop holding it against Archie for drifting away. 

“I kinda just bailed on you without thinking. I mean, I didn’t realize how bad it had gotten for you until later, and when I tried to find you after the trial you were already on your way to your mom’s.” 

“Well, it was bound to happen. People drift apart.” Jughead pointed towards Archie and shrugged, “you got hot, I was still the awkward secretly homeless kid.” 

“It’s not about me getting hot, I mean I wasn’t --” Archie’s shoulder jerked back and he took a sip of his coffee, before looking at Jughead with the sort of intensity that only Archie Andrews could muster, “I wasn’t there for you and I should’ve been, and I’m sorry.” 

A younger Jughead would’ve been jumping for joy, but at nineteen Jughead didn’t know how to handle rebuilding bridges. He was only adept at tearing them down. 

“It’s okay,” Jughead tapped his fingers against the table, “we were young and we were both out of our depth. I don't think any middle schooler or even high school student knows how to deal with their best friend’s dad becoming an alcoholic and then kidnapping a kid at his dad’s request.” 

“Well, I should’ve tried harder. I tried to call you when you moved to Ohio but your number changed. I got so wrapped up in my own shit that I wasn’t there for you when you needed me. And I want to change that! I mean the band is great and all but I want us to be friends again, even if you walk away in March.” 

Jughead really doubted that Jellybean would let him walk away, let alone Archie’s powerful puppy dog eyes. 

“I’m tired of hearing about my shit, what was your shit that you got wrapped up in?” 

“Well, you left right after middle school so that would’ve been when I started getting into music,” Archie paused, biting his lip. “and when Ms. Grundy happened.” 

Jughead recognized the branch when it was being extended. Archie was about to tell him something he told no one and he had enough context clues to know he wasn’t going to like what he heard. 

“Why do I feel like we should have alcohol?” 

“I mean, it’s not that bad, she was just my music teacher freshman year, and then…”

“Let’s go get beer.”

_______

The beer did not make the conversation easier. The ballad of _I lost my virginity to my teacher_ is not an easy one to stomach, and Archie is only making it worse by saying things to the effect of _I don’t understand why everyone is so mad at her!_ It’s clearly something that Archie needs to process and talk through. Jughead has been in that spot before.

“Anyways, how was Ohio?” Archie says, and Jughead has never been more relieved to talk about the train wreck of his high school years. Anything to take him off the subject of _Betty and Ronnie just don’t get it! I was in love!_

“They sucked.” 

Archie leveled his wide eyes at him, and Jughead continued. 

“By the time I showed up my mom had this boyfriend --” Archie winced, and Jughead realized how the story normally goes, he quickly intervened, “-- he never molested either one of us, but he made it clear that he didn’t like having either one of us around. First with his words and then with his fists.” 

Jughead doesn’t like talking about it, singing “10 and 2” is about as close as he can get to really delving into the worst of it. The night when he realized he had to take JB and run. 

“I’m sorry man,” Archie reached out and cupped Jughead’s shoulder. It’s a relief, and Jughead steeled his spine from shaking the reassuring hand off. Friends are there for each other, and now Archie wants to be there for him. 

“He messed up, and broke my arm, and roughed JB up while I was in the hospital,” He didn’t add in the terror he felt when he came home, and saw JB’s bloody lip and black eye. The unshakeable and constant of JB left scared and alone. “I let Mom know she had to choose between us and him. She chose him, and I took us away.” 

“That must’ve been hard.” A frown on the corner of his mouth. Leave it to Archie Andrews to feel what Jughead couldn’t.” 

“I did what I had to do, she skipped town and made it incredibly easy for me to argue that we should get custody. There was a lot of red tape and she let me know she didn’t care, I could do whatever I wanted with the trailer so I sold it.” Jughead jerked his shoulder in a quick shrug, “and then we came here and never looked back.” 

“You’re killin’ it. I can’t even imagine having custody of Vegas let alone your kid sister, and she’s doing so great. If anyone looked at you they’d never even know,” 

Jughead decided to take that as a compliment, “Yeah, I guess they wouldn’t.”

They sat quietly for a second, Jughead nudged a beer across the bar. 

“All this time you've stuck close to Betty right?” 

“She's my best friend,” Archie said quickly, as if by rote. 

“If I was going to get her a present, what would she like?” 

Archie shrugged, “flowers? Hard hitting investigative journalism?” 

Both answers were absolutely useless to Jughead as he'd been hoping for something not completely obvious. “Thanks man.” 

“No problem.”

_________

The lingering traces of poison was out of the wound and spat on the ground between them, which made it ridiculously easy for them to continue on with their friendship.

Which is how Betty and Veronica found them a few hours later, drunk in the apartment. 

“What’s going on here?” Veronica asked, setting her bags down. Out of respect of Betty’s personal space, they’d set up their guitars in the living room and were playing a real live version of guitar hero. 

“We’re having bro night,” Archie said, without a hint of irony.

“Bro night!” Jughead repeated, with a snicker. 

“Are you drunk?” Betty asked, the frown she’d walked in with disappearing. 

“Just a little buzzed, Juggie is a two drink man,” Archie didn’t clarify that he himself had met every beer Jughead had with two of his own. 

“How was shopping with your mom?” Jughead asked, setting down his guitar. He didn’t miss the way Betty’s hands clenched at her side, before she responded. 

“It was fine, how was bro night?” She asked, stretching out her fingers. 

“We can’t talk about bro night,” Archie said, flinging out a hand to cover Jughead’s mouth as if he’d speak up about it otherwise. 

“Well that’s nice. Now that you’re all here, maybe we can do a bit of band work,” Veronica said, sorting out her bags on the couch. 

“JB isn’t here,” Archie pointed out. 

“Speaking of JB,” Jughead twisted his wrist and sure enough, time had flown a little further than he thought, “I gotta beat her home so I can be the stern big brother.”

“Does the stern big brother usually have pizza on his shirt?” Veronica asked. 

“Hopefully I’ll get home with enough time to erase the evidence,” Jughead waved around the room as he picked up his bag, “bye everyone, see you at the band meeting, and uh…” Jughead looked at Betty, “will you be in class tomorrow?” 

“Yes, I will be, and we should --” She shot a look over at Veronica who was pretending to be studying her bags and Archie who was watching them with what Jughead was sure he thought to be an eagle eye. “Let me walk you out.” 

Archie said something, but Jughead didn't hear it as he let Betty double back to the main hallway. The buzz lingered and Jughead leaned against the wall, studying Betty as she pulled the door shut behind her. 

To be alone with Betty was what he wanted all day, and now that he was here, he wasn't sure what to do. 

“Hey,” he went with, and Betty’s shoulders sagged with what looked to be relief. 

“I'm so glad I got to see you, I really didn't want to reschedule,” her hands clenched, unclenched, she reached across the short distance to tug on his lapels, “sorry for the raincheck.” 

“It's totally ok, otherwise I wouldn't have been able to hear the creepy ballad of ms. Grundy,” he said with a grin to offset the sardonic tone of his words. 

“Oh he didn't,” Betty shook her head, “I'm so sorry.” 

“ _Please_ tell me she got arrested or something,” as soon as he said it she was nodding, “good. What a creep.” 

“Half the guys at our school congratulated Archie when they found out, which made it really easy to know who to avoid,” Betty smoothed the lapel of his coat, and Jughead caught her hands. 

“Well, Riverdale is definitely less clean cut then I thought. How was your mom’s visit?” 

Betty shook her head slightly, eyes widening at the floor as she thought of what to say, “it was, well, weird. She's trying to build bridges but she can't help but ask me why I'm not at Yale like I should be.”

“Well clearly, you're living your best life and breaking hearts in New York after laying waste to Hartford. Next is Chicago, and after that Boston. What kind of education could you get if you stayed at Yale?”

Betty smiled, and used the hand still enfolded in his to tug him closer. She rocked up onto her tip toes and pressed a kiss to his lips. He followed her back down with another kiss, bending to meet her halfway. 

“Jughead,” Betty whispered against his lips, “I'm really looking forward to working on this project with you.” 

“Me too,” Jughead said, happy that the relics from his past chased him to New York. 

“See you in class tomorrow.” 

He knew a send off when he heard it, he pressed another kiss to her lips and set off down the hall towards the elevator, looking back once to make sure Betty was watching him go. 

She was, the tips of her fingers resting against her mouth. 

Jughead could not wait for that raincheck.

___________

“-- and then there's this guy who Frankenfurter created right, and he just comes out of nowhere--” Jellybean recounting of the Rocky Horror PIcture show barely needed his attention, as all he had to do was throw out the occasional hem and haw to keep her going. His laptop cracked open on the kitchen table kept his attention, he fired off email after email. Trying to keep them short and to the point.

“-- ok then they're singing in the pool and Meg said that scene got one of the actresses super sick--” 

“Susan Sarandon,” Jughead interjected without thinking. 

“Yeah right so then-- wait what are you doing?” Jellybean asked, stepping out of the bathroom. 

“Some hard hitting investigative journalism.” Jughead said, snapping his computer shut and turning towards her, “can I use the bathroom?” 

“Sure! I forgot to tell you about --” and she was off.

_________

“You would definitely rather be investigating dead bodies or drug rings wouldn't you?” Jughead asked absentmindedly as he and Betty walked towards Veronica’s apartment.

“Definitely, but the professor made it clear that we had to stick to student problems, or issues at NYU,” Betty said with a dejected sigh. Jughead had no chance of not liking her, there was nothing about her he disliked. If it hadn't been for Jellybean he could've withstood Archie’s puppy dog eyes or Veronica’s strong arguments, but he was never going to be able to avoid Betty.

“What if I told you that a fraternity was funding their activities via a drug ring?” 

“They're _not._ ” Betty said turning to level a look at Jughead, “are you teasing me?” 

“Do you want to stake out a party next week?” 

Betty bit her lip, and thought about athletes. He could just tell that she was weighing the probability. 

“We could write both reports, use the better one for the grade and the shitty one we could submit to the school paper.” 

“We couldn't submit something shitty to the school paper,” Betty said incredulously. 

“Ah dearest Betty,” Jughead said, wrapping his arms around her shoulder, “anything shitty we write would be a million times better than any of our peers.”

“Conceited much Jug?” 

“JB is a genius at the drums, Veronica is a mastermind, Archie is a golden retriever, you're the best Journalist out there and I'm the best writer. It's a match made in heaven,” he said, contentment settling in his stomach as she curled her fingers around his hand that draped over her shoulder. 

“Who would watch JB for the night?” 

“We’ll figure it out.”

_______

“This is my idea, since we don't have a set sound and all of our best songs are about finding ourselves, we should use those ones first and call it ‘Identity Crisis.’” Veronica spun towards the rest of the band and smiled, waiting for their approval.

“Which songs then?” Jughead asked, leaning forward as he sat between Betty and Jellybean. Archie had taken over the love seat with a long lean as soon as Veronica stood up. 

Veronica grabbed papers that had been nearly stacked by the TV and handed each one of them a sheet. “10 and 2” made the cut, as did Betty’s as of yet unnamed song about being the third wheel in a post crush universe. 

“All we’re really missing is a love song--” Veronica held up a hand towards Archie, “-- not that your love songs aren't great, but we need something with a little more pop and pizzaz. We’ll find the perfect song before we record. Our other songs are still really good and will be lined up for the next album so keep churning them out!” 

Jughead didn't know if he had any amount of his heart left to give after "10 and 2.” He was just happy that at the drive in didn't make the cut. 

“This is our set list for Saturday then?” Betty asked. 

“Unless anyone has any qualms?” 

No one felt ready to disagree with Veronica quite yet. Jughead certainly didn't want to. 

“Great! Let's get practicing!”

___________

It comes quicker than he wants it to. Before he could really accept that he's going to be performing in front of an audience again, he’s back stage at a bar somewhere in Brooklyn that's known for having the best up and coming bands. He’s clutching a Ginger Beer in one hand and holding his guitar to his stomach with the other, the strap digging into his shoulder underneath the weight of responsibility.

Jellybean is nearly vibrating behind him, rocking up to the tip of her toes and back down again. She may be very clearly not drinking but Jughead is a little concerned that the organizer will think she's on meth. 

He doesn't ask if she's ready, nor does he give her another out. When they drove over he’d given her a long speech about how they could just leave at any point and no one would hold it against her. She'd just rolled her eyes and said _for the millionth time I want to do this._

Leaving Jughead to admit that he might just be the tiniest bit in over his head. 

“Hey,” Betty whispered. 

Jughead clutched the guitar a little tighter and turned towards Betty, “hey.” 

“Is it just me or has this definitely gotten of hand?” He can tell she's joking by the tilt of her smile, the twinkle in her eyes. 

“I think it got out of hand when I accepted 2k from Veronica last week.” Jughead shot a glance towards Archie and Veronica, who are bent towards each other in some sort of pre show pep talk. 

“You're going to do great out there,” Betty grasped his elbow in a reassuring pat, “just close your eyes and dream of Capote.” 

The thought makes him burst out in laughter, as the weedy hype man is striding between their group to center stage. 

He shouts something into the microphone, but it's lost in the shouts of the audience. Jughead is used to a particular kind of audience, a detached sort only interested in their next beer and not in the pair of minors trying to improve their lives on the stage. This crowd is going to pay attention. 

“Alright, you guys ready for this?” Archie asks, and turns and strides out onto the stage without waiting for a response. 

“No, I'm not,” Jughead says sardonically. But Jellybean is shoving him out into the bright lights. Betty lets go of his arm, and he feels untethered. 

It's easy enough to find his mark, somewhere between Betty’s piano and Jellybean’s drumset. He held onto the mic stand as if it was his only grip on the world. 

How did he get here? He was a writer for chrissakes. He belonged in an cabin on cliffs overlooking the stormy ocean as a storm raged. Just him, his laptop, and Hot Dog curled up at his feet. Maybe Betty reading a book next to him, Jellybean in the next room- 

Jellybean hit her cymbals, once, twice, three times. Then started the beat for a song Archie had written. Jughead narrowly caught his cue, strumming the strings in time with Betty as Archie crooned into the mic. He’d missed the introductions, the reaction to their stupid name, _Jonesin Bulldogs? Really?_ and he'd even missed the reaction to his own name. He leaned forward to harmonize when he was supposed to, and realized the mic was just a smidgen too low.

The song segued into the next, a Veronica track, the easiest one for him. The song petered out in such away that he was able to quickly fix his mic before the next song as Archie introduced it. The heat was unbearable on him, he wished he’d forsaken his beanie or had brought the stool with the water bottles closer to him. 

He was backup vocals to Betty’s song “Mistakes I didn't make” with Veronica. It took him nearly half the song to get comfortable the same way he was in the street. Comfortable enough to take a second to cast a glance at Jellybean. 

Smiling, her arms flailing with intent and purpose. 

He could do this, for her. 

Jughead looked back at the audience, and quickly realized his mistake, he had to look elsewhere, anywhere else. He was up next. Very soon he'd be singing a song he’d written to a room full of strangers who were actually listening, one of whom could be the person who got Jellybean where she wanted to be; at the top of the charts. 

He shot a look at Betty, hoping he only seemed half as panicked as he felt, she sent him a smile, a carefree one as she sang through the last chorus. 

They were singing together and he was too in his head to enjoy it. They were harmonizing and bringing her words to life and he was sitting here panicking about himself. 

He felt like he was having an out of body moment, a damn near panic attack and it was just his first time. 

“- and now, ‘10 and 2’” Archie said, looking over at Jughead who met his gaze with a quick nod. 

_No one is here, it's just us_ Jughead thought to himself, before strumming the opening bars on his guitar. The piano and drum accompaniment quickly following as Jellybean dictated it. 

Jughead let his eyes drift shut and tried to imagine that night, his hands clutched on the wheel as he thought about Jellybean. 

And he sang from the heart.

________________

“You looked like you were going to die out there for a solid ten minutes.” Jellybean said entirely too gleefully for someone he’d sacrificed his whole life to make happy.

“I'm a solitary person Jellybean, I do not like to be the center of attention.”

“Then why did you suddenly calm down when it was your song?” Veronica asked archly, “you can't fool us Thom Yorke.” 

“I think that's when I transcended to another plane of existence and gave up on this one,” Jughead said, taking another swig of his water. 

“You definitely seemed better after that, you did great during ‘Mom’s Song’” Betty avoided adding that it was probably because it was Jellybean’s song and he'd sung it a thousand times. 

“We really do need a love song. We have a whole range of emotional songs from fun and peppy to sad and emotional, thank you Jones siblings--” both Jellybean and Jughead did a half bow “--but a love song would really--Wyatt!” 

Veronica stood up smoothly and pressed a cheek kiss to tall skinny man dressed in a suit too fancy for the bar they were hiding in the back of. 

“There you are darling! I'm so glad I got to see you perform!” 

“I'm so glad you made it out for it! I hope traffic didn't slow you down too much,” Veronica said smoothly, turning into the businessperson she was born to be, Archie towering behind her. They ranged into a semi circle, with Jughead sitting in the couch at the back, reluctant to get any closer to wyatt’s gleaming white teeth. He knew a wolf when he saw one. 

“You know it never does, and your band is really quite _darling_ ,” Wyatt winked again, and Jughead stiffened in his seat. 

“Well,” Veronica clapped her hands together, “what did you think?” 

Wyatt paused, dramatically raising an eyebrow to eye the room, looking at each one of them in turn. 

“Well there was an a bit of awkwardness at first,” Wyattt drawled. 

“Hey,” Jughead started, sitting up, “I found my mark.” 

“I wasn’t talking about _you_ although you certainly were the _worst_ , I was talking about all of you.” Wyatt pointed towards Betty, “Little miss I’m-trying-too-hard-and-it’s-very-obvious.” 

Jughead’s head snapped up at that, his head tilting in an glare. 

“Then we’ve got mr. Vibrato here,” the long finger moved towards Archie. Jughead grabbed Archie’s elbow, standing up next to him to keep him from lunging forward. 

“And then you, Veronica, you couldn’t stop controlling your friends long enough to let them relax -” Veronica stood hipshot at that. 

“And you--” Jughead stepped in front of Jellybean protectively, keeping his arm as firmly on Archie as he could. He wasn't sure if he was holding Archie back or in need of Archie to hold him back. 

“You, drum like a little angel,” Wyatt said, smiling. Jellybean sagged against his arm, “your voice however--”

“Hey!” Jughead said, cutting him off, “that’s enough, we get it.”

“Veronica, you’re going to go places girl, but not with this band.” And Wyatt spun out of the room and was gone. 

“What the fuck?” Archie asked the now empty room. “What the _fuck_?”

“Well that was certainly more brutal than I thought it would be, but we got our first round of constructive criticism!” Veronica was trying for her usual chirpy demeanor, but hit an octave too high. 

Jellybean shoved past Jughead, shouldering her way through the backdoor towards the parking lot. Hiding her face with her coat sleeve as she did so. 

“If you guys excuse me, I’m going to go make sure that my sister doesn’t cry her eyes out over a slimy forty year old guy in a purple suit. I’ll see you busking on Monday,” Jughead said, giving his bandmates a wave as he followed his sister out into the brisk Brooklyn night air.

________________

“So, do we want to watch ‘Psycho’? Or ‘Birds’? Or ‘Rear Window’? I could be tempted to watch ‘The Alfred Hitchcock Hour’?” Jughead asked, holding up his laptop and waving it around as temptingly as he could.

“Why don’t I go die in a ditch?” Jellybean asked, pulling blankets over her head and building a fort out of the sad solitary pillow she preferred. 

“Come on now JB.” Jughead pulled the blanket off her head and sat down next to her, wrapping his arm around her shoulder. 

“Don’t you JB me!” Jellybean said as she turned and shoved her face into his shoulder, the tears and makeup long since washed away after the long and awkward drive back from Brooklyn. 

“Listen, that guy clearly was an asshole. Sure we’re in desperate need of practice but there’s nothing wrong with your voice.” He brushed her hair away and pressed a kiss against her forehead, trying to figure out what a parent would say in this situation, but all he had was honesty, “your voice is beautiful.”

“I sound like I sucked on a exhaust pipe.” 

“So do I and you’ve always said you think it’s cool. If I’m Chris Cornell then you’re…” he thought about it for a moment, “Gin Wigmore.”

“No I’m not.” Jellybean said, a hint of her usual bravado coming back into her voice as she shoved halfheartedly at his side. 

“You make The Weeks sound soft,” Jughead squeezed her arm, and held her tight to his chest, “you’re a champion among lesser humans with less distinguished vocal chords.” 

“Now we’re never going to be famous,” Jellybean muttered. 

“Now you know that’s not true. There’s no way. There’s way too much talent in this band for it not to do well,” _except for me of course_ he edited mentally. 

“What am I supposed to do now?” 

“Watch ‘Psycho’ with me, I’ve decided.” Jughead let her go, Jellybean preferred to keep distance between herself and other people when watching a movie. It was how she operated. 

She sighed dejectedly for most of the film, not pointing out her usual favorite parts or adding her running commentary. By the end of the movie she’d tilted her head ever so slightly towards him. He started “Birds” next, knowing she’d crack eventually. 

Right as the swarm was getting it’s most terrifying, she slapped the space bar. 

“It’s just that … what do we do if we don't make it as part of a band?” Jellybean asked, shifting in her blankets to face Jughead, who had sprawled out with a cup of water. 

“What do you mean we? You’re definitely going to make it somewhere. Do you know how hard it is to get a full ride to Julliard?” Jughead arched an eyebrow at her, “it’s next to impossible. And yet here you are. With a full ride.” 

“So I just do percussion somewhere, maybe not with this band? That’s bullshit Jug.” She folded her arms and leaned against the cement wall. 

“It’s not bullshit, it’s true. You’re fifteen! When I was fifteen I thought the Serpents were going to be my whole life. I think this band could really go somewhere but if it doesn’t?” Jughead shrugged pointedly, “then you’ll find something else to succeed at.”

“I want this to succeed.” Jellybean said, her eyes wide and a fire deep in them, “I want to show people like Wyatt who think my voice is bad, or the girls in my school who think I’m trash, or the kids back home who made fun of me when mom left us.” 

“I’m not mature enough to dissuade you from using revenge as a motivator. It’s pretty effective. But I’m also going to say that you’re going to do it because you’re great, and you work hard.” 

Jellybean opened her mouth to speak, but a swift knock came at the door. Jellybean and Jughead shared a look before staring at the door. Sure enough, the knock came again. 

“What the hell?” Jughead asked, and stood up, placing the water on the kitchen counter that abutted the edge of the bunk bed. He contemplated pulling back on his hat, or a shirt over his tank top, but he decided to go straight for the door. 

“If it’s Wyatt tell him he’s an asshole.” 

Jughead pulled the door open, “nope, it’s just the bulldogs to our Jonesin, and they’re drunk.”

Betty’s cheeks were flushed and her impeccable sweater was stained with something brown, she was leaning against the wall as if she couldn't stand on her own. Archie let out a yawn as Jughead announced them, shaking his head slightly. 

“Hey,” Veronica held up a finger, “I am not drunk ok?” 

The fact that she was being partially held up by Archie didn’t help her case. 

“She wants to make a rousing speech to align us as a group,” Betty said, with a half smile, “you might as well let her do it so we can just go home.” 

Jellybean came, with her blankets around her to the door, “Jughead doesn’t like having people over.” 

Betty’s eyes went wide and her mouth dropped in a little O, “I am so, so sorry, we’ll leave, we shouldn’t have just -”

“No, no it’s ok don’t be sorry, you can come in.” Jughead took a step back, “welcome to Casa de Jones, Manhattan edition.” 

The three of them stumbled into the room, the door only opening so wide as the drum set was stored just behind it. 

Jughead cast a look around the room to make sure nothing too embarrassing was hanging out. He’d taken the time to clean up that morning and do the dishes, so it was at least relatively spotless. Jellybean shuffled back to her bunk, settling into her nest of blankets. 

Jughead took the one kitchen chair and set it next to the armchair, Archie dropped into it, with Veronica perching on the armrest as Betty sat in the rusty kitchen chair. He sat across from her on the edge of Jellybean’s bed. 

“You were watching ‘Birds’? That’s one of my favorites,” Betty said, pointing towards the computer. Jughead knew it would be. Betty had good taste in everything it seemed like. 

“Yeah, we watch Hitchcock movies when we’re ….” he didn’t want to say sad. 

“In a rage.” Jellybean lied smoothly, only her face showing through her blankets. 

“Well, we too were in a rage, and maybe we did a few tequila shots too many.” Veronica shifted, and held out her hand, “I would like to apologize for bringing Wyatt down on this group too early. We were not prepared, I was trying to rush things as it were.” 

“It’s fine Ronnie, it’s not your fault,” Archie said, leaning forward. 

“It most definitely was my dearest Archiekins, and I’ve done a lot of hard thinking over the last few hours, and in that uber ride where the driver was painstakingly telling Betty how he was a good man and could take care of her,” Veronica tapped Jughead’s Serpent tattoo, “and that is clearly not her type.” 

“Hey, judgement not needed right now,” Jughead said, slapping away Veronica’s hand. He pointedly did not look towards Betty, Archie’s slight tilt of censure was enough for him to handle at one time. 

“Anyways, Wyatt was right.” 

Everyone burst into a symphony of denials. Until Veronica held up a hand. 

“About us needing more _practice_. Tonight was literally our first show. The organizer has already asked us to come back, he said the crowd loved us. I’ve already lined up two more shows. Wyatt is a blip on our radar. He was wrong about me being bossy, she says bossily, and Archie’s voice, and Jellybean’s voice of course. But we need more practice before we approach the big guns. Which is why I’m suggesting we use our winter break to our advantage and go on a brisk two week tour, the end of which will land us a contract as we’ll be meeting with the best and biggest label in Riverdale.” 

“Riverdale, as in our hometown?” Jughead asked, his hand still covering the tattoo on his shoulder, “known for being tiny and insignificant?” 

“Josie and the Pussycats are performing at the Winter Solstice show, and Josie has let me know that her record label intends to be there hearing new acts. And we’re going to sign with them. They’re far greater than Wyatt and that gives us two months to get our act together.” 

“And to get a new name.” Jughead butted in. 

“What’s wrong with the name?” Archie asked. 

“Everything.” Betty shot back. 

“Tonight we have faced our first gauntlet, and sure we’ve come out of it a little drunk, and having seen too many birds attack Blondes. But we’ll be better for it in the long run. All in favor say Aye.” Veronica held up her hand, “aye!” 

“Aye!” Archie said quickly. 

Betty and Jughead shared a glance, before sticking up their own hands and adding in their own Ayes. Jughead turned towards Jellybean, still wrapped in her blankets and suspiciously silent. 

A small hand reached through the blankets to raise up, “Aye I guess.” 

“Great, it’s settled. Let’s all take the day off tomorrow and Monday we’ll reconvene in the subways rejuvenated and ready to conquer the world!”

________________

Rain pattered against the window, and Jughead shifted against his pillows to better study the passing people who strode on by. He stretched his fingers before tapping them lightly against the keys, trying to find the best word to describe the sheriff.

_Stalwart? No. Husky?_

“Hey, some girls are going to dinner, and they invited me,” Jellybean said, breaking the silence of over an hour as she popped her head over the divider. 

“Which girls?” Jughead asked, sounding far more like Fred than FP or Gladys. 

“Meg, some others,” Jellybean wiggled the divider, “please?” 

“Fine, but your curfew is 10, it's a school night.” 

“Ok thanks!” Her head disappeared as she dropped down. Jughead shifted on his bed to watch her pack her bookbag to go. 

“If it's dinner why are you bringing enough books to weigh down a body?” 

“For the train ride to Queens, duh?” 

“You're not taking the train home, take an uber and I'll pay for it.” 

Jellybean stood for a moment and took out a book in agreement. 

“Home by 10!” He says again. 

“Bye!” 

And she's slamming the door shut behind her. 

“I guess it's just you and me,” Jughead said to his laptop, “let's see if we can't solve that murder.” 

He tapped his fingers contemplatively against his laptop, his eyes sliding from the screen to his cellphone. He was alone, until at least 10. 

“She's probably busy,” Jughead said to no one.

Jughead tried to dive back into the foggy world of his hero and the task that lay before him, but the phone taunted him. 

With a groan he grabbed it and quickly tapped the buttons that would lead him to his salvation. 

“Jughead?” Betty asked, her voice reassuring as always. 

“Hey Betty, I just uh,” didn't want you to always have to call me first “wanted to see what you were up to?” 

“Veronica and Archie are about to have date night so I was thinking about making myself scarce. You?” 

“Well I was working on my book, so if you want to make yourself scarce here- or dinner” he added quickly, “let's do dinner.” 

“Actually, how about I bring dinner? As an apology for drunkenly invading your private space last night.” 

“Don't worry about it, no one threw up so, we’re all good.” Jughead played with the edge of his blanket, trying to figure out what to say, “but dinner sounds great I'm starving.” 

“What should I get you and Jellybean?” 

“Er, actually Jellybean is at a friend’s house for a few hours, so it'd be just us.” 

There's silence on the line for a second and he almost hangs up in a panic. 

“Perfect,” Betty says, sounding almost elated. 

“Just bring whatever makes you happy, I'll eat anything.” 

“I know you will.”

______________

What she brings is Chinese, and it's perfect. He borrows a chair from the hall so they can both sit at the kitchen table. They don't talk about the band but they talk about everything else. Mostly about her Mother and the impromptu visit brought on by Alice only having one child who isn't in a cult or is deeply deranged.

They spread books and notes out on any available surface as they work on their case and on their songs, workshopping ideas as they let the Beef Lo Mein settle into their stomachs. 

Betty asks about the serpents and Jughead finds its easier to talk about then he thought, the years of turmoil where he'd desperately looked for family anywhere he could get it. 

“Is that why you're such a dedicated big brother?” Betty asks, as they're tucking the now cleaned dishes back into the cabinets. 

“I guess you could say that, when I found out Jellybean wasn't as safe as I thought she was I got a little over protective.” 

“You're your own gang, your gang of two.” 

“You don't even know the half of it,” Jughead said as he pulled down a sheet from the top of Jellybean’s shelf, “I told Jellybean she should be proud of her voice and where we come from, and this is what she wrote.” 

Betty takes a moment to scan it before arching a brow, “if you're a pair of criminals now is the time to speak up.” 

“I think it's more slim shady then anything else. A fantastical telling of what we could be if provoked. And apparently what we would be is a pair of irreverent bank robbers to the sound of a strong beat.” 

“I think it's great, I can't wait to hear her belt it out.” Betty tilted her head, “this is just drums, one guitar and piano.” 

Jughead gripped the bed a little too hard and tried to keep his frame relaxed, “yeah, it looks like.” 

“Why didn't she write the bass or the second guitar?” Betty asked, looking closely at the page, her eyes flitting up to him. 

“She starts with her drums and then she works backwards, adding instruments based on--” Jughead shrugged, “I don't fully get her process.” 

“Juggie,” Betty says hesitantly. 

“She likes you I guess.” 

“ _Juggie_ ” 

“Which is good, because I like you too, obviously in a different way,” Jughead managed to say, before tugging the paper out of her hands and sticking it back onto the top shelf. 

“Jughead,” Betty tried for the third time, a half smile on her lips, “I like you too. And Jellybean, in a different way.”

“Glad we got that cleared up,” Jughead leaned against the bookshelf, “everyone likes everyone.” 

They stand for a moment, studying each other with smiles on their faces. He's sure they look stupid, they must look deranged. But Jughead is basking in the moment. 

Betty Cooper _likes_ him. 

It's the very same Betty Cooper who breaks the silence, and says “Jug, if you don't kiss me I'm going to explode.” 

And Jughead, while a rebel he was, always listened when he wanted to. He closed the space between them and swept her up into a kiss, wrapping his arms around her waist and tilting her head back to press his lips against hers. 

The innocent kisses they'd shared on campus are gone, and something more primal has taken their place. After All they're alone, and they're in like. It's an opportunity to make poor decisions that Jughead has never found himself making before. 

Jughead doesn’t know how to tell her that this is all new to him, that he’s never had the time nor the inclination to stand in his kitchen making out with a friend turned something more. A very small part of him reminds him that he probably has _Demisexual Virgin_ written across his forehead for anyone in the know. A larger part of him picks up Betty by the back of her thighs and sets her on the sink so he can kiss her throat with ease. 

Her immediate response was to push him slightly away, but before he could even frown she’s pulling her shirt over her head and wrapping her legs around his waist and pulling him back in closer. 

Jughead is going completely on instinct, his thumb tracing her jawline as he mouths further down her perfectly arched neck. But she’s moaning so he must be doing something right. Her hands are grabbing at his sweater and he leans just far enough back to pull it over his head. 

Her hands skim down his chest, a quick exploration of his skin, she leans forward, pressing kisses into his neck and his collarbone as she goes. 

“How long do we have?” She asks. Jughead doesn't want to be reminded of the forward March of time at that exact moment, but he gets why she's asking. He checks their microwave and does the quick math. 

“An hour? Tops.” She's sucking a bruise into the juncture of his neck and shoulder, and he's gripping the cabinet behind her, trying to think of the opening lines of “In Cold Blood” to keep himself from ending this before it's really even started. 

“Well what can we do with a whole hour?” Betty asked, leaning back with a twinkle in her eye, her saliva cooling on his shoulder. Jughead isn't used to making the decisions, the few times he and Toni fooled around before they realized neither of them were really into it, she made all the decisions. 

“Ladies’ choice,” Jughead tries for a casual arch of a brow, but he can't quite ignore what happens when she chuckles with no shirt on. 

“Honestly Juggie I just want to be here with you,” her voice is soft and his heart is going to beat out of his chest, to flop uselessly on the ground and follow her forever. 

“Well I just want to make you happy.” Jughead says, a little too softly and earnestly. But she's smiling and clearly still fine with his clear ineptitude. 

It occurs to him that there was one thing that Toni taught him how to do, that if he’s being honest he's wanted to do to Betty for quite some time. His thumbs are against her ribs, just under the lace of her bra, his hands wrapped around her sides and the feeling of her soft skin is grounding him at the same time as it's exciting him. He wants to touch her everywhere she'll let him, he wants to explore every inch of her.

“Can I try to make you happy?” He asks her. 

“Of course,” she says. And threads her fingers through his hair, knocking his beanie off. 

Jughead lifts her again, his thumbs brushing against her bra with the motion, the counter isn't enough space and he doesn't want her braiding herself on the microwave. As gently as he can he lowers her to the laminated kitchen table, which is just rickety enough to make him worried, but he doesn't want to risk the top bunk quite yet. Her way of assistance is to hold onto his shoulders, her delicate hands clutching the skin she’d just marked up. In a way his skin is delicate too, but he doesn't want to dwell on that too much. 

She can't abide the distance the movement cost them, her legs folding behind him once again and bringing him closer, her arms wrapping around his neck. Her kisses haven't lost any of their fervor or urgency and he's falling deep into them.

His fingers trail up and down her sides, exploring as best as he can. The time limit is on his mind, and his hands snake back to her bra clasp, undoing it as swiftly as he can. He wants to wax poetic about her chest, but that’s not the kind of guy he is, instead he presses a trail of kisses from her collarbone, down the skin as it’s being revealed, listening to her sharp intake of breaths as he does so. 

He knows he’s being a tease when he skips her nipples, but Forsythe Pendleton the Fourth is being a little bossy and there’s no way he’d last if he focuses too much on the minutiae of what is actually happening. Betty has her fingers threaded through his hair and every time he presses a kissed or nips at her skin she moans a little louder and her head drops back. 

_Eyes on the prize Jones,_

His fingers skim up her thigh, stroking at the edge of her underwear. Her leg jerks ever so slightly, tightening around him. 

He lifted his head as much as she allowed, which wasn’t much, “Okay?”

“Yeah,” She says with a quick nod, “very okay.” 

“Can I take them off?” He asked, his fingers already curling around the waistband, she’s nodding before he’s even finished asking. Always a prompt response from Betty Cooper. 

Taking off her underwear means untangling himself from her legs, which is a bigger disappointment than he could imagine handling at that moment. It’s not long before he’s back between her legs, still mostly clothed but this time he’s given up on splitting his attention and focusing on the matter at hand. Making Betty cum on his kitchen table. 

Jughead swipes his fingers through her heat, and he’s a little surprised to find she’s soaked. Did he do that? 

She’s beautiful all over, and of course she’s beautiful here too. He could stare at her all day, but he felt like that could get fairly creepy fairly fast. 

“Jughead, I hate to rush you here, but if you don’t hurry up I’m going to…” She trailed off and Jughead just arched a brow at her. 

“Well, you’re lucky that I really want to do this and I’ll eschew my normally curious nature,” Jughead said with a grin, before stroking her again. Betty’s rebuttal is lost as her head drops back down, thunking against the table with a groan. 

He wants to take his time, explore, learn everything about her. But he doesn’t have that much time. Instead he strokes her once, twice, and finds the little nub that makes her legs jerk again. 

Jughead stands back up, wondering where all this bravado came from as he follows the impulse to lean over her on the table, his forefinger pressing against her entrance, “Betty, you look so beautiful right now, spread out on my table.” 

Betty whimpered, but he could feel her muscles flutter, he added a second finger, ever so slowly to the first. 

“Someday I’m going to worship you, but right now I need you to tell me what you want.” 

“I want you to stop torturing me,” she shoots back, looking up at him. 

“Okay, I’ll stop torturing you then.” 

He pressed his thumb against her clit, and rubbed it in small circles, this time he thought ahead, cradling her head to keep her from getting a concussion. His forefinger and middle finger clumsily thrust into her as he tries his best to set a rhythm, but whatever he’s doing seems to be working for Betty, she’s writhing on his hand, one of her own hands coming to hold his wrist as if he’d ever think of pulling away. Her other hand wrapping around his back as he pulled her upright. 

Their lips meet and Betty can’t stop moaning long enough to kiss him properly, which he’s discovered is something he loves. She’s asking him to go _harder, harder!_ and he does, because he’d do anything if she’d ask like this. 

It doesn’t take long before she pulls away, pressing her face into his shoulder, holding onto his arm just below his tattoo as she lets out a moan. Jughead tries to coach her through it, sooth her, but he’s never made a girl come on his hand before and he’s not quite sure what he’s doing. He does know he’ll never forget it. 

He gives her a minute, reluctant to pull his hand away, but when she taps his wrist he does. 

“Juggie, that was…” Betty says, her hair ruined, a look of bliss in her eyes, and more than a few red marks down her chest. 

“Betty, that was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen,” Jughead told her truthfully. She laughed and shifted, grabbing his hips to move him back between her legs again. 

“Well, let me see if returning the favor has the same effect on --” 

Keys jangle as they enter the lock, and just as the door opens a crack Jughead’s hand is against it slamming it shut. Terror shoots through Jughead’s body as his eyes lock with Betty’s. Her hand yanks away from his belt buckle in horror. 

“The fuck?” Jellybean shouts from the hallway, and Jughead’s face is burning hotter than the sun. 

“Just a second!” He shouts back, trying to remember the last time he’d kept Jellybean from doing what she wanted. He was coming up blank. There’s no way he’s going to let her into the apartment until Betty at least has her bra back on. 

With the arm not on the door he helps Betty get down from the table as she scanning the floor for her shirt. Her bra was trapped on one elbow and she’s pulling it on quickly as he’s leaning over to grab and pull on his own shirt. He’s trying to remember word by word the Communist Manifesto in order to quell the hard-on that had been growing. His hand still against the door in case Jellybean doesn’t like being told no as much as he’s always assumed she has. 

Betty pulled her shirt back on, and quickly used the microwave to check if her lipstick was smeared, it was. She also looks like she’s been ravaged on the kitchen table but that’s neither here nor there. He wants to step forward and help her clean up, he’s also very aware that he probably has some of her lipstick on _his_ face and damn it if that’s not the hottest thing he’s ever been put through. But Jellybean tried the door again. 

Belatedly it occurs to him that his hand is still wet, in a desperate bid to destroy the evidence he sucked on his fingers before wiping it on his shirt. He looked over at Betty, who was staring at him with a look of mild shock, the door buckled again. 

“Seriously! Calm down it’s just a second,” he shouts as Betty recovered and wetted a paper towel and rubbed the traces of lipstick off her face. She handed it to him, and he does the same, operating on the hope that he gets it all before his eagle eyed sister comes in. 

“I’m soaking wet, what are you even-” Jellybean started to yell before he swung the door open, very aware that their job is highly dependent on them being neither seen nor heard in the building. Jellybean stopped abruptly as soon as she saw Betty. “I didn’t realize you guys were hanging out tonight.”

“Well, we had homework. So.” Jughead scrambled for an excuse, as to why they couldn’t open the door. 

“Sorry we were going to cook a snack and we spilled stuff in front of the door so, we had to finish cleaning it before you could come in.” Betty once again came to his rescue. 

“Sure, of course. I’m going to go change.” Jellybean smirked widely as she stepped towards the bathroom, grabbing a change of clothes off her bookshelf. Behind her back, Jughead and Betty shared a private look of relief, an embarrassing moment had been avoided. On the threshold to the bathroom she turned, smile wicked as she locked eyes with Jughead. “By the way. Betty? Your shirt is inside out.” 

With that, she shut the door on both of their gaping faces. 

“You know, I never thought it was possible to actually die of embarrassment until just now.” Jughead informed Betty levely. 

“I am so so _sorry_ ” Betty started looking around for her coat and her bag, and Jughead wanted to tell her to _stay_ but if the tables had been turned he definitely would not have wanted to stick around and look Polly in the eyes. 

“No, please don’t be sorry, it’s a small price to pay for a great night.” He wants to make sure that they stick it on the calendar to do everything and more. For once he can see what the whole sex thing is all about and he wants to see if Betty is on the same page. 

“It was definitely a great night,” Betty corroborated. They’ve migrated on the hunt for Betty’s stuff to the center of his incredibly tiny studio apartment. Out of habit his hands are on the bookshelf and the top bunk as he watched her shove all the music sheets and books into her bag from the small armchair where they’d been spread out. 

She’s turning to face him, her bookback on her back as she’s smoothing down the skirt he’d rumpled not a full minute before, her eyes are flitting from his mouth to his own eyes and his heart was beating with rapid confusion, trying to figure out what all the feelings Jughead was putting on it. She bit her lip, lipstick now a memory, as she stared him, and said, “Definitely a great night.”

“Do you want to do it again?” Jughead asked, for once feeling like things were about to go his way with ease. 

The bathroom door slammed open, and Jellybean reappeared, wrapped in a towel as the shower ran behind her, “You can’t leave betty!” 

“What are you doing? Go shower!” Jughead spun around and pointed towards the bathroom, “eavesdropping is not cool.”

“I wasn’t eavesdropping,” she said, as she tapped her fingers rapidly against the door frame. Her tell for any and all lies. “I was just realizing that it’s raining outside and Betty will get _drenched_ if she tries to walk home.”

“There’s this thing, they’re called umbrellas,” Jughead wanted Betty to stay more than anything, but Betty staying just wasn’t possible. They had an apartment the size of a subway car. 

“Ok but it’s also dangerous-” 

“Here, in the richest part of manhattan? I’ll walk her home.” Jughead could feel Betty move closer behind him, and hoped she got that he wanted to stay but not when a sleepover meant the two of him plus his baby sister.

“Then what if your skinny ass gets mugged on the way home?”

Betty couldn’t stay, he just gave her an orgasm on the kitchen table, they couldn’t just watch a movie with his kid sister like nothing was wrong. “I’m going to drive Betty home now, as we both have school in the morning.” 

“Yeah, I have a paper to work on too.” Betty said, gesturing towards the door, “Jughead was going to just give me a ride anyways.” 

Jughead’s ears go hot, and he nods. He can’t look at his sister as he pulls on his coat, “alright I’ll be back before you know it. Don’t set anything on fire. Bye.” 

If Jellybean shouted something at him, he missed it in his quick ushering of Betty out the door. 

“I was going to give you a _ride_ ” he hissed at her. 

“Well I was certainly hoping you were going to, it’s raining and you are a gentleman.” Betty said with an innocent smile. 

“You’re too much Betty Cooper.”

_____________

The rusted old truck shuddered to a halt outside the building owned by Lodge enterprises. Jughead shifted in his seat to face Betty, just as she shifted to face him.

“I had a great time,” he reiterated. 

“You didn’t even get to--” 

Jughead waved his hand, “its fine, what we did tonight will probably help me with that for months to come.” He stopped and rapped his fingers against the wheel. “Did I just say that outloud?” 

“It’s fine, Juggie.” 

“Obviously I was hoping we could proceed without my sister around, but thems the breaks.” 

“As much as I adore Jellybean, I am definitely agreeing with you there.”

They share an awkward chuckle, and then Betty is leaning in and kissing him again. 

She cradles his face with her hands like he’s something precious and to be cherished. He feels wanted and needed in a way he’s never felt before and he doesn't know what to do with it. Too soon they break apart, very cognizant that they’re being watched by a very burly doorman. 

“Sleep well Betty.” Jughead said, wishing he’d be able to lay his head next to hers. 

“Goodnight Juggie,” Betty said with one of her half smiles. 

And Betty hopes out of the car and walks past the burly doorman, casting one last glance back at him.

________

When the door clicked shut, Jellybean reached out and whacked his leg.

“Ow, what is with all the abuse?” 

“Why didn’t you tell me you’d be bringing her home?” 

“It wasn’t exactly planned! She just wanted to bring me dinner, as friends.” 

“There’s nothing _as friends_ about you two. Why didn’t you tell me to stay out past my curfew?” 

“You have your curfew for a reason.” Jughead pointed out as he grabbed his pajamas and fled to his too tiny bathroom to change and escape the inquisition. 

It didn’t work. 

“What were you two doing when I came in?” 

Jughead groaned and let his head drop back as he shuffled across the apartment and up to his bunk. 

“Just pretend I’m a dude and tell me, or next time put a tie on the door, or better yet text me!” 

“Just go to bed Jellybean!” Jughead said just a tad too loudly as he crawled onto his bed. He’d have to wait until Jellybean got up to go to school the next day to get rid of the tension that been built up in him, and that was just his fault for not investing in a two bedroom apartment. Or a one bedroom where he could put more walls between himself and his nosy sister. 

Her head shifts on his pillow, and suddenly he feels horribly self conscious about everything, ever. He’s always been incredibly proud of everything he’s built for himself and Jellybean. They have an apartment in Manhattan. She’s going to Juilliard and he’s going to NYU. Neither of them are stumbling down the same paths their parents went down. There’s great things in the works for the Jones siblings, thanks in no small part to his hard work and dedication (Jellybean’s hard work and dedication is also to be admired. And now there’s something to be said of Veronica’s connections and money but that’s neither here nor there.)

If he had just a tiny bit more money or parents who sucked just a tiny bit less, maybe he’d be in his own bedroom in Brooklyn or somewhere of that ilk with Betty in his arms, instead of a narrow top bunk in what essentially amounted to a basement closet. While the girl of his dreams was several blocks away, less frustrated than him but still frustrated nonetheless. 

“Okay fine, don't tell me. But we have _got_ to come up with a system.” Jellybean’s voice was as always, impossibly loud. 

“Goodnight Jellybean!” 

Jughead shifted in his bed, his fingers catching on fabric more fine than the cloth of his sheets or his pillowcase. He lifted his hand and saw Betty’s underwear. The same ones he’d pulled off her earlier that night. 

_Maybe my life isn’t so bad._ Jughead thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so. This whole work is going to be decidedly more "Awkward Jughead from season 1" then season 2 Jughead as I'd written most of it during season 1. The only change I made was accommodating the fact that Jughead joined a gang, otherwise the story will proceed as normal. Aka, FP is still in jail (as Jughead was sent to Ohio before he could make a deal with Penny) 
> 
> Shout out to Sunlitgarden who talked me into picking this back up by texting me nonstop (and for convincing me to finally watch season 2 which omg why, why am I doing this to myself). 
> 
> I put this fic on hold to focus on my book, and now that my book is mostly edited and I'm just trying to get the energy to edit it for the 10th time I'm trying to work on this and some other fics I have in the hopper. Sorry for the long wait!

**Author's Note:**

> Another fandom that I swore I wouldn't write for. And another band fic. I dont know why I'm so addicted to band fic but I am.


End file.
